At Eventide

POOR and inadequate the shadow-play

Of gain and loss, of waking and of dream,

Against life’s solemn background needs must seem

At this late hour. Yet, not unthankfully,

I call to mind the fountains by the way,

The breath of flowers, the bird-song on the spray,

Dear friends, sweet human loves, the joy of giving

And of receiving, the great boon of living

In grand historic years when Liberty

Had need of word and work, quick sympathies

For all who fail and suffer, song’s relief,

Nature’s uncloying loveliness; and chief,

The kind restraining hand of Providence,

The inward witness, the assuring sense

Of an Eternal Good which overlies

The sorrow of the world, Love which outlives

All sin and wrong, Compassion which forgives

To the uttermost, and Justice whose clear eyes

Through lapse and failure look to the intent,

And judge our frailty by the life we meant.

1878.