Between the gates of birth and death <br />An old and saintly pilgrim passed, <br />With look of one who witnesseth <br />The long-sought goal at last. <br /> <br />O thou whose reverent feet have found <br />The Master's footprints in thy way, <br />And walked thereon as holy ground, <br />A boon of thee I pray. <br /> <br />'My lack would borrow thy excess, <br />My feeble faith the strength of thine; <br />I need thy soul's white saintliness <br />To hide the stains of mine. <br /> <br />'The grace and favor else denied <br />May well be granted for thy sake.' <br />So, tempted, doubting, sorely tried, <br />A younger pilgrim spake. <br /> <br />'Thy prayer, my son, transcends my gift; <br />No power is mine,' the sage replied, <br />'The burden of a soul to lift <br />Or stain of sin to hide. <br /> <br />'Howe'er the outward life may seem, <br />For pardoning grace we all must pray; <br />No man his brother can redeem <br />Or a soul's ransom pay. <br /> <br />'Not always age is growth of good; <br />Its years have losses with their gain; <br />Against some evil youth withstood <br />Weak hands may strive in vain. <br /> <br />'With deeper voice than any speech <br />Of mortal lips from man to man, <br />What earth's unwisdom may not teach <br />The Spirit only can. <br /> <br />'Make thou that holy guide thine own, <br />And following where it leads the way, <br />The known shall lapse in the unknown <br />As twilight into day. <br /> <br />'The best of earth shall still remain, <br />And heaven's eternal years shall prove <br />That life and death, and joy and pain, <br />Are ministers of Love.'<br /><br />John Greenleaf Whittier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/between-the-gates/
