"Dear child! she wanted to help me,
I knew 'twas the best she could do;
But oh! what a botch she had made of it,
The gray mismatching the blue!
"And yet, can you understand it?
With a tender smile and a tear,
And a half compassionate yearning,
I feel her grow more dear.
"Then a sweet voice broke the silence,
And the dear Lord said to me,
'Art thou tenderer for thy little child
Than I am tender for thee?'
"Then straightway I knew His meaning,
So full of compassion and love;
And my faith came back to its refuge,
Like the glad returning dove.
"So, I thought, when the Master Builder
Comes down this temple to view,
To see what rents must be mended,
And what must be builded anew;
"Perhaps as He looks o'er the building
He will bring my work to the light;
And seeing the marring and bungling,
And how far it is all from right;
"He will feel as I felt for my darling,
And will say as I said for her,
'Dear child! she wanted to help me,
And love for Me was the spur;
"'And for the great love that is in it
The work shall seem perfect as Mine;'
And, because it was willing service,
Will crown it with plaudit Divine.
"And there, in the deepening twilight,
I seemed to be clasping a Hand,
And to feel a great love constraining,
Far stronger than any command.
"Then I knew by the thrill of sweetness,
'Twas the Hand of the Blessed One
Which should tenderly guide and hold me,
Till all the labor is done.