Let it be even as thou wilt, still are we ransomed from nonentity,
The worlds of bliss and woe are peopled with immortals:
And ruin is thy blame; for thou, the worst, art free
To take from Heaven the grace of love, as the gift of life:
Yet is not remedy thy praise; for thou, the best, art bound
In self, and sin, and darkling sloth, until He break the chain:
None can tell, without a struggle, if that chain be broken;
Strive to-day,—one effort more may prove that thou art free!
Here is faith and prayer, here is the Grace and the Atonement,
Here is the creature feeling for its God, and the prodigal returning to his Father.