Although we lose, yet still we gain
If losing be not through a sin;
Between the shadow and the pain
A little sunlight will creep in.
God taketh all that seemeth best
From out our lives, from out our hearts;
But in return we find the rest
Which purity or faith imparts.
If in the busy work of life
Man sinks amid the noisy din,
One gentle touch of child or wife
Brings back again the strength to win.
The helpless maiden lying there,
Who never more will pluck sweet flowers,
Or revel in the morning air,
Forgetting all but love's swift hours,
Is winding laces 'bout her hands,
And singing low a tender song,
She wonders if the unknown lands
Will ope their golden gates ere long.
And even I, for whom there seems
No joy of light from stars or sun,
Can lift my soul away from dreams
In whispered prayer,—"Thy will be done!"