All Is Not Lost...
by Susan Coolidge.
In early dawning had come the guest,
And whether from East or whether from West,
The knew not, nor asked, as he stood and bent
At the entrance of the lowly tent:
He had dipped his hand in the bowl of pod,
He had thanked and praised and called it good;
And now between his hosts he sat,
And talked of matters so deep and wise
That Eve looked up from her braiding mat
With wonderment in her beautiful eyes.
"All is not lost," the stranger said,
"Though the garden of God be forfeited;
Still is there hope for the life of man,
Still can be struggle and will and plan,
Still can be strain toward the shining goal
Which trump and becomes his sinewy soul;
Still there is work to brace his thews,
And love to sweeten the hard won way,
And the power to give, and the right to choose,
And-- " he paused; and the rest he did not say.
