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And they all melt into sweetness,
Above God's world bends Heaven,
Or folds her still more fondly
And she casts back Heaven's sweetness,
God's world has one great echo;
Whether calm blue mists are curled, Or lingering dew-drops quiver,
Or red storms are unfurled; The same deep love is throbbing
Through the great heart of God's world.
Man's world is black and blighted,
And should his feeble purpose
The work is marred and tainted
Man's world is bleak and bitter;
Wherever he has trod
That blossoms on the sod,
Of the great, good world of God.
There Strength on coward weakness
In cruel might will roll;
That eat away the soul;
The plague-spot of the whole.
Man's world is Pain and Terror;
He found it pure and fair,
The golden summer air.
Man's curse, not God's, is there.
And yet God's world is speaking:
But listens where the echoes
Then clamours back to Heaven
Oh God, man's heart is darkened,
Show him Thy cloud and fire;
Then lead him through his desert,
A NEW MOTHER.
WAS with my lady when she died:
And I drew them round my knee that night,
I, who guessed what her last dread had been,
And I knew so much! for I had lived
Ah! she once had such a happy smile!
I had known how sorely she was tried:
When she stood by her dead mother's side.
No—I will not say he was unkind;
But she had been used to love and praise.
Into all his stern and serious ways.
She, who should have reigned a blooming flower,