“’Father of all’! he urges his strong plea
Thou lovest all; Thy erring child may be
Lost to himself, but never lost to Thee.
“All souls are Thine; the wings of morning bear
None from that Presence which is everywhere.
Nor hell itself can hide, for Thou art there.
“Through sins of sense, perversities of will,
Through doubt and pain, through guilt and shame and ill
Thy pitying eye is on Thy creature still.
“Wilt thou not make, Eternal Source and Goal!
In Thy long years, life’s broken circle whole,
And change to praise the cry of a lost soul?”
Thou lovest all; Thy erring child may be
Lost to himself, but never lost to Thee.
“All souls are Thine; the wings of morning bear
None from that Presence which is everywhere.
Nor hell itself can hide, for Thou art there.
“Through sins of sense, perversities of will,
Through doubt and pain, through guilt and shame and ill
Thy pitying eye is on Thy creature still.
“Wilt thou not make, Eternal Source and Goal!
In Thy long years, life’s broken circle whole,
And change to praise the cry of a lost soul?”
WHITTIER
“I dislike extremely a passage in which you appear to consider the disregard of individuals as a lofty condition of mind. My own experience and development deepen every day my conviction that our moral progress may be measured by the degree in which we sympathise with individual suffering and individual joy.”
GEORGE ELIOT [pen-name of Mary Ann Evans]
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