Man's pity wounds, but Jesus' pity heals:
He gave us balm beyond all earthly balm;
He gave us strength beyond all human strength;
He taught us love above the low desires;
He taught us hope beyond all earthly hope;
He taught us charity wherewith to build
From out the broken walls of barbarism,
The holy temple of the perfect man.
"On every Sabbath-eve I wrote Pauline.
Page after page was burdened with my love,
My glowing hopes of golden days to come,
And frequent boast of rapid progress made.
With hungry heart and eager I devoured
Her letters; I re-read them twenty times.
At morning when I laid the Gospel down
I read her latest answer, and again
At midnight by my lamp I read it over,
And murmuring 'God bless her,' fell asleep
To dream that I was with her under the pines.
"Thus fled four years--four years of patient toil
Sweetened with love and hope, and I had made
Swift progress in my studies. Master said
Another year would bring me to the bar--
No fledgeling but full-feathered for the field.
And then her letters ceased. I wrote and wrote
Again, but still no answer. Day after day
The tardy mail-coach lagged a mortal hour,
While I sat listening for its welcome horn;
And when it came I hastened from my books
With hope and fear contending in my soul.
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