 | A Sculptor and Other Poems |  |
26
All that God does, and the way He does it, is sure to be wise and right.
And I call it nothing but casting reproach on Him and His perfect plan,
Who made the love of man for woman, the love of woman for man,
When those who have lost that bliss, or those to whom it has been denied,
Sneer at the holy name of love and smother with selfish pride
The seeds of the sacred flowers God holds to be given in service meet
When twin'd for a darling's brow or laid at tir'd humanity's feet.
And life has autumn and winter joys left yet, and I love to see
Her little children, whom I had hop'd should be mine, around my knee:
Ay, give me your hand, old friend, true friend—there was once a tender and true man
Like you, who gave to his friend a love passing the love of woman.
| A Sculptor and Other Poems | |