| Julia Alpinula | |
|
XVIII.
Fortune not oft seems anxious to atone
The wrongs of years, and blend all joys in one,
When grand events in sure succession flow,
Wave after wave, nor yet too fast, nor slow,—
When various means, in due gradation tend,
Firm to one purpose, faithful to one end,
As though to lifeless things were given a sense
Of good and evil, an intelligence
To deal around, for years of crime and wrong,
Strength to the weak, and weakness to the strong;
Yet now to Andron's lot such grace was lent,
To soothe a spirit broken but unbent,
As if heaven now had made him all its care,
In one glad moment answering years of prayer.
| Julia Alpinula | |
|