Classic Poem

Thou hast done well, perhaps,
To lift the bright disguise,
And lay the bitter truth
Before our shrinking eyes;
When evil crawls below
What seems so pure and fair,
Thine eyes are keen and true
To find the serpent there:
And yet — I turn away;
Thy task is not divine, —
The evil angels look
On earth with eyes like thine.

Thou hast done well, perhaps,
To show how closely wound
Dark threads of sin and self
With our best deeds are found,
How great and noble hearts,
Striving for lofty aims,
Have still some earthly chord
A meaner spirit claims;
And yet — although thy task
Is well and fairly done —
Methinks for such as thou
There is a holier one.

Shadows there are, who dwell
Among us, yet apart,
Deaf to the claim of God,
Or kindly human heart;
Voices of earth and heaven
Call, but they turn away,
And Love, through such black night
Can see no hope of day;
And yet — our eyes are dim,
And thine are keener far:
Then gaze till thou canst see
The glimmer of some star.

The black stream flows along
Whose waters we despise, —
Show us reflected there
Some fragment of the skies;
" Neath tangled thorns and briers,
(The task is fit for thee,)
Seek for the hidden flowers,
We are too blind to see;
Then will I thy great gift
A crown and blessing call;
Angels look thus on men,
And God sees good in all!