And Thou, despoiled, hast given away Worship to men, success to strife, Thy glory to the heavenly day, And made Thy sun the lord of life. Is one too precious to impart, One property reserved to Christ? One, cherished, grappled to that heart? —To be alone the Sacrificed? O Thou who lovest to redeem, One whom I know lies sore oppressed. Thou wilt not suffer me to dream That I can bargain for her rest. Seven hours I swiftly sleep, while she Measures the leagues of dark, awake. O that my dewy eyes might be Parched by a vigil for her sake! p. 25But O rejected! O in vain! I cannot give who would not keep. I cannot buy, I cannot gain, I cannot give her half my sleep. p. 25 p. 26FREE WILL p. 26 Dear are some hidden things My soul has sealed in silence; past delights, Hope unconfessed; desires with hampered wings, Remembered in the nights. But my best treasures are Ignoble, undelightful, abject, cold; Yet O! profounder hoards oracular No reliquaries hold. There lie my trespasses, Abjured but not disowned. I’ll not accuse Determinism, nor, as the Master [26] says, Charge even “the poor Deuce.” Under my hand they lie, My very own, my proved iniquities, And though the glory of my life go by I hold and garner these. How else, how otherwhere. How otherwise, shall I discern and grope For lowliness? How hate, how love, how dare, How weep, how hope? p. 27THE TWO QUESTIONS p. 27 “A riddling world!” one cried. “If pangs must be, would God that they were sent To the impure, the cruel, and passed aside The holy innocent!” But I, “Ah no, no, no! Not the clean heart transpierced; not tears that fall For a child’s agony; not a martyr’s woe; Not these, not these appal. “Not docile motherhood, Dutiful, frequent, closed in all distress; Not shedding of the unoffending blood; Not little joy grown less;
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