At The Last.

Tis not what we have done that shall atone,1
When, at the last, our best will look so mean,2
But what our wish has willed, our aim has known,3
What hope was ours and what our love has been.4
No deeds shall weigh, however full the score,5
They have no wings whereby our souls may rise ;6
Striving and pain keep watch at heaven’s door,7
Struggles and tears lie closest to the skies.8
Faith that untired survived the shattered heart,9
Love that essayed to hallow all it gave,—10
These shall atone—shall testify what part11
High purpose made it possible to crave,—12
These when they reach the threshold of God’s Day,13
Perfect and pure shall stand without dismay.14