"I thank thee, Lord!" she said: "So many prayers are answered! ... You knew not That I had asked for this. You did not know When you were striving with your feeble might For the great prizes that beguiled your pride, That at the hand of God I begged success. Ay, Paul, I prayed that you might gather all The good that you have won, and that, at last, You might be brought to know the worthlessncss Of every selfish meed, and feel how weak-- How worse than helpless--is the highest man Who lives within, and labors to, himself. Not one of all the prizes you have gained Contains the good that lies in your despair." "Teach me," I said, "for I am ignorant; Lead me, for I am blind. Explain the past, With all its errors. Why am I so low, And you so high?" She pressed my hand, and said "You have been hungry all your life for God, And known it not. You lavished first on me Your heart's best love. You poured its treasured wealth At an unworthy shrine. You made a God Of poor mortality; and when you learned Your love was greater than the one you loved-- The one you worshipped--you invoked the aid Of your imagination, to enrich Your pampered idol, till at last you bowed Before a creature of your thought. You stole From excellence divine the grace and good That made me worshipful; and even these Palled on your heart at last, and ceased to yield The inspiration that you craved. You pined, You starved for something infinitely sweet; And still you sought it blindly, wilfully In your poor wife,--sought it, and found it not, Through wasted years of life. "And then you craved An infinite return. You asked for more Than I could give, although I gave you all That woman can bestow on man. You knew You held my constant love, unlimited Save by the bounds of mortal tenderness; And still you longed for more. Then sprang your scheme For finding in the love of multitudes, And in their praise, that which had failed in me. You wrote for love and fame, and won them both By manly striving--won and wore them long. All good there is in love and praise of men, You garnered in your life. On this reward You lived, till you were sated, or until You learned it bore no satisfying meed-- Learned that the love of many was not more Than love of one. With all my love your own, With love and praise of men, your famished soul Craved infinite approval--craved a love Beyond the love of woman and of man.