Chapter 158 of 160 · 111 words · ~1 min read

VIII.

The Universe hath nought that changes not, Nor in its change feels not the pangs of pain, Nor prays not unto God to ease that woe. Mid these are many who the grace obtain Of aid from Thee:--thus Thou didst rule their lot: And many who without Thy help must go. How shall I tell toward whom Thy favours flow, Seeing I sat not at Thy council-board? One argument at least doth hearten me To hope those prayers may not unanswered be, Which reason and pure thoughts to me afford: Since often, if not always, Thou dost will In Thy deep wisdom, Lord, Best laboured soil with fairest fruits to fill.