He had thanked and praised and called it good;
And now between his hosts he sat,
And talked of matters so deep and wise
That Eve looked up from her braiding mat
With wonderment in her beautiful eyes.
“All is not lost,” the stranger said,
“Though the garden of God be forfeited;
Still is there hope for the life of man,
Still can he struggle and will and plan,
Still can he strain toward the shining goal