Bathsheba! to whom none ever said scat- No worthier cat Ever sat on a mat, Or caught a rat. Requiescat!

And step by step, since time began, I see the steady gain of man.

With our sympathy for the wrongdoer we need the old Puritan and Quaker hatred of wrongdoing; with our just tolerance of men and opinions a righteous abhorrence of sin.

Nothing before, nothing behind; The steps of faith Fall on the seeming void, and find The Rock beneath.

Through the open door A drowsy smell of flowers -grey heliotrope And white sweet clover, and shy mignonette Comes fairly in, and silent chorus leads To the pervading symphony of Peace.

No longer forward or behind I look in hope or fear, But grateful, take the good I find, The best of now and here.

All the windows of my heart I open to the day.