And God is good, I said, and Art is good, And labour hath its rich reward of sleep; And recompense will come for all who keep Dishonour’s ill contagion from the blood. And over us there curves the infinite Blue heaven as a shield, and at the end We shall find One who loveth to befriend E’en those who faint for shame within His sight. And down the awful passes of the sky There comes the voice that circumvents the gale; That makes the avalanche to pass us by, And saith, “I overcome” to man’s “I fail.” “And peradventure now,” said I, “the zest Of all existence waits on His behest.” |