Mercy Philbrick's Choice

To one who found us on a starless night,

All helpless, groping in a dangerous way,

Where countless treacherous hidden pitfalls lay,

And, seeing all our peril, flashed a light

To show to our bewildered, blinded sight,

By one swift, clear, and piercing ray,

The safe, sure path,--what words could reach the height

Of our great thankfulness? And yet, at most,

The most he saved was this poor, paltry life

Of flesh, which is so little worth its cost,

Which eager sows, but may not stay to reap,

And so soon breathless with the strain and strife,

Its work half-done, exhausted, falls asleep.