To the next charge vexed Willie turned,
And, sighing, wiped his glasses:
“I’m much concerned to find ye yearned
O’er-warmly tow’rd the lasses!”
Here David sighed; poor Willie’s face
Lost all its self-possession:
“I leave this case to God’s own grace;
It baffles my discretion!”
XIII.
Then sudden glory round me broke,
And low melodious surges
Of wings whose stroke to splendor woke
Creation’s farthest verges;
A cross stretched, ladder-like, secure
From earth to heaven’s own portal,
Whereby God’s poor, with footing sure,
Climbed up to peace immortal.
XIV.
I heard a voice serene and low
(With my heart I seemed to hear it)
Fall soft and slow as snow on snow,
Like grace of the heavenly spirit;
As sweet as over new-born son
The croon of new-made mother,
The voice begun, “Sore tempted one!”
Then, pausing, sighed, “Our brother!
XV.
“If not a sparrow fall, unless
The Father sees and knows it,
Think! recks he less his form express,
The soul his own deposit?
If only dear to Him the strong,
That never trip nor wander,
Where were the throng whose morning song
Thrills His blue arches yonder?
XVI.
“Do souls alone clear-eyed, strong-kneed,
To Him true service render,
And they who need His hand to lead,
Find they His heart untender?
Through all your various ranks and fates
He opens doors to duty,
And he that waits there at your gates
Was servant of His Beauty.”