A struggle of submission shuddered down To quiet in the bosom of the youth-- Strange contrast to the unperturbed repose, With rapture, of obedience, that meantime, And ever, safe within the heart of Paul Breathed as might breathe an infant folded fast To slumber in its mother's cradling arms! So had Paul learned to let the peace of Christ Rule in his heart, a fixed perpetual calm, Like the deep sleep of ocean at his core Of waters underneath the planes of storm. And Stephen answered: "Oh, with God, with God! And blesséd be His name that thus I choose!" "Yea, verily," Paul said, "for He sole it is Who worketh in us, both to will and work For the good pleasure of His holy will. As thou this fashion of obedience Obediently acceptest at His gift, So growest thou faithful mirror to reflect Clear to thyself, and just, the thought of God. Thus thou mayst hope to learn somewhat of true, Of high and deep and broad, concerning Him, Him and His ways inscrutable with us-- Of thy self emptied, for more room to be From God henceforth with all His fulness filled! "This at least learn thou now, how greatly wise Was God, by that which was in us the lowest To take us and uplift us higher and higher Until those very passions, hate and wrath, Which erst seemed right to us, as they were dear, Become, to our changed eyes--eyes, though thus changed, Nay, as thus changed, sore tempted to be proud-- Become forsooth unworthy symbols even To shadow God's displeasure against sin. To generation generation linked In living long succession from the first, To nation nation joined, one fellowship Of man, through clime and clime, from sea to sea-- Thus has by slow degrees our human kind Been brought from what we were to what we are. Thus and no otherwise the chosen race Was fitted to provide a welcoming home, Such welcoming home! on earth for Him from heaven-- The only people of all peoples we Among whom God could be Immanuel And be in any measure understood, Confounded not as of their idol tribes. And we--_we_ did not understand Him so But that we hissed Him to be crucified! So little were we ready, and even at last, For the sun shining in His proper strength! After slow-brightening twilight ages long To fit our blinking vision for the day, The glorious sun arising blinded us And maddened! We smote at him in his sphere, Loving our darkness rather than that light!"