Dora Greenwell (1821–1882)

“For one day with Thee is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.”

“NOW have I won a marvel and a Truth”;

So spake the soul and trembled, “dread and ruth

Together mixed, a sweet and bitter core

Closed in one rind; for I did sin of yore,

But this (so said I oft) was long ago;

So put it from me far away, but, lo!

With Thee is neither After nor Before,

O Lord, and clear within the noon-light set

Of one illimitable Present, yet

Thou lookest on my fault as it were now.

So will I mourn and humble me; yet Thou

Art not as man, that oft forgives a wrong

Because he half forgets it, Time being strong

To wear the crimson of guilt’s stain away;

For Thou, forgiving, dost so in the Day

That shows it clearest, in the boundless Sea

Of Mercy and Atonement, utterly

Casting our pardoned trespasses behind,

No more remembered, or to come in mind;

Set wide from us as East from West away

So now this bitter turns to solace kind;

And I will comfort me that once of old

A deadly sorrow struck me, and its cold

Runs through me still; but this was long ago.

My grief is dull through age, and friends outworn,

And wearied comforters, have long forborne

To sit and weep beside me: Lord, yet Thou

And look upon my pang as it were now!”