IV

When God on that sin had pity, and did not meet

                  it as such,

But tempered the wind to thy uses, and softened

                  the world to thy touch;

At least thou wast moved in thy soul, though un-

                  able to prove it afar,

Thou couldst carry thy light like a jewel, not giving

                  it like a star?

                              "I have sinned," she said,

                              "And not merited

            The gift He gives, by the grace He sees!

The mine-cave praiseth the jewel, the hill-side

                  praiseth the star:—

                        I am viler than these."