But the Father's house has room for all,

And never one from His hand can fall!

The one brave deed of a desperate man,

Grown hard in crime since his youth began,

Who yet, for a helpless woman's sake,

Had strength to rise, and his chain to break;

The holy sweetness that fills the heart

Of him who dwells from the world apart,

His life one dream of celestial things,

Till almost heaven to earth he brings;

Or yet the humble, unnoticed life

Of toiling mother and patient wife,

Who, year on year, has had grace to bear

Her changeless burden of daily care,—

Are all accepted with equal love,

And laid with treasures that wait above

Until the day when we all believe

That every man shall his deeds receive.

And when, that evening, with weary feet

The hermit stood by his lone retreat,

 Prev. P 45/198 next