Why look you grave, why shake your head?
He wronged me sore, you say —
’Twas yesterday when that was done,
And now it is to-day.
Another eve, another morn
Has swept around the world;
And on the golden brow of eve
God’s banners lay unfurled.
And from the solemn, bending sky
The dew has fallen free,
With its soft rain it washed all stain
From off the earth and me.
And shall I then, shall I to whom
The Lord forgave so much,
Let even one soul turn away
Without a pardoning touch?
Nay, when God’s mercy rounds the world
And sweeps the universe,
Shall I alone with weary moan
Lie underneath His curse?
Lie underneath His curse, because,
Though he might let me live,
And let me live beneath His smile,
My soul would not forgive?
Go, let the dewdrops bathe your soul
As they have flowed o’er mine;
And let the daisies teach you this —
Forgiveness is divine.
And then forget that yesterday
Some wrong was done to you;
Think of the eyes that saw time’s birth
And looks creation through.
God sits in majesty serene
On heaven’s eternal hill;
He rules the whole wide universe,
And He forgives us still.
Why should I hold an angry thought
Because a wrong was done?
I pray to God no sin of mine
May see to-morrow’s sun.
So what was done me yesterday,
To-day I cannot find;
God says the sins that I have done
His love has cast behind.
The sweet dew-rain of peace and prayer
Has washed that grief away;
See, through the golden gates of eve
Fades out another day.
Agnes Neale, Shadows and Sunbeams, Adelaide: Burden & Bonython, 1890, pages 51-53
o’er = over (pronounced the same as “oar”, “or”, and “ore”)
Old spelling in the original text:
’twas (it was)