27.05.2007, 13:33
CHARITY, IN DESPAIR OF JUSTICE
OUT-WEARIED with the littleness and spite,
The falsehood and the treachery of men,
I cried, give me but justice, thinking then
I meekly craved a common boon which might
Most easily be granted; soon the light
Of deeper truth grew on my wondering ken,
(Escaped baneful damps of stagnant fen,)
And then I saw, that in my pride bedight
I claim’d from erring man the gift of Heaven -
God's own great vested right; and I grew calm,
With folded hands like stone to patience given,
And pityings of pure love-distilling balm; -
And now I wait in quiet trust to be
All known to God, —and ask of men, sweet Charity.
OUT-WEARIED with the littleness and spite,
The falsehood and the treachery of men,
I cried, give me but justice, thinking then
I meekly craved a common boon which might
Most easily be granted; soon the light
Of deeper truth grew on my wondering ken,
(Escaped baneful damps of stagnant fen,)
And then I saw, that in my pride bedight
I claim’d from erring man the gift of Heaven -
God's own great vested right; and I grew calm,
With folded hands like stone to patience given,
And pityings of pure love-distilling balm; -
And now I wait in quiet trust to be
All known to God, —and ask of men, sweet Charity.