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The Eternal Goodness

O Friends! with whom my feet have

The quiet aisles of prayer,

Glad witness to your zeal for

And love of man I bear.

I trace your lines of argument;

Your logic linked and strongI weigh as one who dreads dissent,

And fears a doubt as wrong.

But still my human hands are

To hold your iron creeds:

Against the words ye bid me

My heart within me pleads.

Who fathoms the Eternal Thought?

Who talks of scheme and plan?

The Lord is God!

He needeth

The poor device of man.

I walk with bare, hushed feet the

Ye tread with boldness shod;

I dare not fix with mete and

The love and power of God.

Ye praise His justice; even

His pitying love I deem:

Ye seek a king;

I fain would

The robe that hath no seam.

Ye see the curse which overbroodsA world of pain and loss;

I hear our Lord's

And prayer upon the cross.

More than your schoolmen teach,

Myself, alas!

I know:

Too dark ye cannot paint the sin,

Too small the merit show.

I bow my forehead to the dust,

I veil mine eyes for shame,

And urge, in trembling self-distrust,

A prayer without a claim.

I see the wrong that round me lies,

I feel the guilt within;

I hear, with groan and travail-cries,

The world confess its sin.

Yet, in the maddening maze of things,

And tossed by storm and flood,

To one fixed trust my spirit clings;

I know that God is good!

Not mine to look where

And seraphs may not see,

But nothing can be good in

Which evil is in me.

The wrong that pains my soul belowI dare not throne above,

I know not of His hate, - I

His goodness and His love.

I dimly guess from blessings

Of greater out of sight,

And, with the chastened Psalmist,

His judgments too are right.

I long for household voices gone.

For vanished smiles I long,

But God hath led my dear ones on,

And He can do no wrong.

I know not what the future

Of marvel or surprise,

Assured alone that life and

His mercy underlies.

And if my heart and flesh are

To bear an untried pain,

The bruised reed He will not break,

But strengthen and sustain.

No offering of my own I have,

Nor works my faith to prove;

I can but give the gifts He gave,

And plead His love for love.

And so beside the Silent SeaI wait the muffled oar;

No harm from Him can come to

On ocean or on shore.

I know not where His islands

Their fronded palms in air;

I only know I cannot

Beyond His love and care.

O brothers! if my faith is vain,

If hopes like these betray,

Pray for me that my feet may

The sure and safer way.

And Thou,

O Lord! by whom are

Thy creatures as they be,

Forgive me if too close I

My human heart on Thee!

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John Greenleaf Whittier

John Greenleaf Whittier (December 17, 1807 – September 7, 1892) was an American Quaker poet and advocate of the abolition of slavery in the Unit…

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