Blest, is he who can divine
Where the real right doth lie,
And dares to take the side that seems
Wrong to man's blindfold eye.
For right is right, since God is God;
And right the day must win;
To doubt would be disloyalty,
To falter would be sin!
FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER.
*
THE COST OF WORTH.
FROM "BITTER SWEET."
Thus is it all over the earth!
That which we call the fairest.
And prize for its surpassing worth,
Is always rarest.
Iron is heaped in mountain piles,
And gluts the laggard forges;
But gold-flakes gleam in dim defiles
And lonely gorges.
The snowy marble flecks the land
With heaped and rounded ledges,
But diamonds hide within the sand
Their starry edges.
The finny armies clog the twine
That sweeps the lazy river,
But pearls come singly from the brine
With the pale diver.
God gives no value unto men
Unmatched by meed of labor;
And Cost of Worth has ever been
The closest neighbor.