The Measure

God the Creator, with a pulseless hand
Of unoriginated power, hath weighed
The dust of earth and tears of man in one
Measure, and by one weight:
So saith His holy book.

Shall we, then, who have issued from the dust
And there return, — shall we, who toil for dust,
And wrap our winnings in this dusty life,
Say "No more tears, Lord God!
The measure runneth o'er"?

Oh, Holder of the balance, laughest Thou?
Nay, Lord! be gentler to our foolishness,
For His sake who assumed our dust and turns
On Thee pathetic eyes
Still moistened with our tears.

And teach us, O our Father, while we weep,
To look in patience upon earth and learn —
Waiting, in that meek gesture, till at last
These tearful eyes be filled
With the dry dust of death.