What then is the marvel or the shame, if units be lost among the million? Canst thou reasonably murmur, if a leaf drop off unnoticed? Wondrous in architecture, intricate and beautiful, delicately tinged and scented, Exquisite of feeling and mysterious in life, none cared for its growth, or its decay: None? yea,--no one of its fellows,--nor cedar, palm, nor bramble,-- None? its twin-born brother scarcely missed it from the spray: None?--if none indeed, then man's neglect were bitterness; And Life a land without a sun, a globe without a God! Yea, flowers in the desert, there be that love your beauty; Yea, jewels in the sea, there be that prize your brightness; Children of unmerited oblivion, there be that watch and woo you, And many tend your sweets, with gentle ministering care: Thronging spirits of the happy, and the ever-present Good One Yearning seek those precious things, man hath not heart to love, Gems of the humblest or the highest, pure and patient in their kind, The souls unhardened by ill usage, and uncorrupt by luxury. And ye, poor desolates unsunned, toilers in the dark damp mine, Wearied daughters of oppression, crushed beneath the car of avarice, There be that count your tears,--He hath numbered the hairs of thy head,-- There be that can forgive your ill, with kind considerate pity: Count ye this for comfort, Justice hath her balances, And yet another world can compensate for all: The daily martyrdom of patience shall not be wanting of reward; Duty is a prickly shrub, but its flower will be happiness and glory. Ye too, the friendless, yet dependent, that find nor home nor lover, Sad imprisoned hearts, captive to the net of circumstance,-- And ye, too harshly judged, noble unappreciated intellects, Who, capable of highest, lowlier fix your just ambition in content,-- And chiefest, ye, famished infants of the poor, toiling for your parents' bread, Tired, and sore, and uncomforted the while, for want of love and learning, Who struggle with the pitiless machine in dull continuous conflict, Tasked by iron men, who care for nothing but your labour,-- Be ye long-suffering and courageous: abide the will of Heaven; God is on your side; all things are tenderly remembered: His servants here shall help you; and where those fail you through Neglect, His kingdom still hath time and space for ample discriminative Justice: Yea, though utterly on this bad earth ye lose both right and mercy, The tears that we forgat to note, our God shall wipe away.