A pine that grew where all the winds assail Grew gnarled and crooked; but because it grew To all its fate erect, I think it stands Chief in the pleasure garden of its God. A ruby formed its facets in the dark Where other growing splendors pressed across And marred its perfectness; but perfectly It grew to its conditions, and I think The King of Heaven wears it in His crown. A man, amid the turmoil of the world, The harryings of selfishness and greed, Faintings within and fears and sneers without, Lamely and poorly did a deed for God; But God, because he measured to the best Of narrow lot and poverty of mind, I think that God has caught the failure up Within the glowing circle of His grace, And there transformed it into high success. Oh, praise to God, who looks beyond the deed, Who measures man by what a man would be, Who sees a harvest in a blighted stalk, Who crowns defeat with His victorious palms, And rears upon our marshes of despair The thrones and mansions of eternity! |