God keeps his thrones for men of strength,
Men that are fit to rule;
Who, in obedience ripe at length,
Have passed through all his school.
Yet higher than thy love can dare,
His love thy sons would set:
They who his cup and baptism share
May share his kingdom yet.
IV.
THE SYROPHENICIAN WOMAN.
"Bestow her prayer, and let her go;
She crieth after us."
Nay, to the dogs ye cast it so;
Help not a woman thus.
Their pride, by condescension fed,
He speaks with truer tongue:
"It is not meet the children's bread
Should to the dogs be flung."
She, too, shall share the hurt of good,
Her spirit, too, be rent,
That these proud men their evil mood
May see, and so repent.
And that the hidden faith in her
May burst in soaring flame,
From childhood truer, holier,
If birthright not the same.
If for herself had been her prayer,
She might have turned away;
But oh! the woman-child she bare
Was now the demon's prey.
She crieth still; gainsays no words
Contempt can hurt withal;
The daughter's woe her strength affords,
And woe nor strength is small.