Shadows

I am sorry in the gladness          Of the joys that crown my days,     For the souls that sit in sadness          Or walk uninviting ways.     On the radiance of my labour          That a loving fate bestowed,     Falls the shadow of my neighbour,          Crushed beneath a thankless load.     As the canticle of pleasure          From my lovelit altar rolls,     There is one discordant measure,          As I think of homeless souls.     And I know that grim old story,          Preached from pulpits, is not so,     For no God could sit in glory          And see sinners writhe below.     In that great eternal Centre          Where all human life has birth,     Boundless love and pity enter          And flow downward to the earth.     And all souls in sin or sorrow          Are but passing through the night,     And I know on some to-morrow          God will love them into light.