Success in God's clear sight, though in man's view,
Obscured by things of sense, 'twas but defeat.
A fire-fly flashed its fitful light, while soft
The evening shadows fell, and clouds hid stars,
And veiled in black the gentle moon's bright face;
As if the night, like one afraid, would haste
To flee when lightning flashed from those small wings,
With courage high the insect gave its light,
Though all alone with none to proffer aid—
Nor sun, nor moon, nor star a single beam.