Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/314

Rh God's rigour never, never sleeps.
 * She waits for peace? In vain.

She struggles or resigned weeps,
 * He strikes and strikes again.

In beings that she loves the most,
 * He wounds her, till half mad

She wanders like a restless ghost!
 * A problem strange and sad.

Thus stricken, reft of joy and light,
 * God makes her fair and clean,

Like an enamel hard and bright,
 * A sword of temper keen.

Subject to Adam's debt below,
 * And every curse and pain,

The Judge inflexible would know
 * If she will staunch remain.

Will she fight on 'gainst every ill?
 * Brave every storm? Stand fast,

Her lofty mission to fulfil,
 * With courage to the last?

And when He sees her ever true,
 * Like needle to the pole,

Upon His work He smiles anew,—
 * Thus forges God a soul.