I WAS sitting alone in the twilight,
With spirit troubled and vexed,
With thoughts that were morbid and gloomy,
And faith that was sadly perplexed.

Some homely work I was doing
For the child of my love and care,
Some stitches half wearily setting,
In the endless need of repair.

But my thoughts were about the "building,"
The work some day to be tried ;
And that only gold and the silver,
And the precious stones, should abide.

And remembering mine own poor efforts,
The wretched work I had done,
And, even when trying most truly,
The meager success I had won :

"It is nothing but 'wood, hay and stubble,'"
I said; "it will all be burned -
This useless fruit of the talents
One day to be returned.

"And I have so longed to serve Him,
and sometimes I know I have tried ;
but I'm sure when He sees such building,
he never will let it abide."

Just then, as I turned the garment,
That no rent should be left behind,
Mine eye caught an odd little bungle
Of mending and patchwork combined.

My heart grew suddenly tender,
And something blinded mine eyes,
With one of those sweet intuitions
That sometimes make us so wise.

Dear child! She wanted to help me.
I knew 'twas the best she could do ;
But oh! what a botch she had made it -
The gray mismatching the blue !

And yet—can you understand it ? -
With a tender smile and a tear,
And a half compassionate yearning,
I felt she had grown more dear.

Then a sweet voice broke the silence ;
And the dear Lord said to me,
"Art thou tenderer for the little child
than I am tender for thee ?"

Then straightway I knew His meaning,
So full of compassion and love,
And my faith came back to its Refuge
Like the glad, returning dove.

For I thought, when the Master-builder
Comes down His temple to view,
To see what rents must be mended,
And what must be builded anew,

Perhaps as He looks o'er the building
He will bring my work to the light,
And seeing the marring and bungling,
And how far it all is from right,

He will feel as I felt for my darling,
And will say, as I said for her,
"Dear child! She wanted to help me,
And love for Me was the spur.

"And for the true love that is in it,
the work shall seem perfect as Mine,
And because it was willing service,
I will crown it with plaudit Divine."

And there in the deepening twilight
I seemed to be clasping a hand,
And to feel a great love constrain me,
Stronger than any command.

Then I knew, by the thrill of sweetness,
'Twas the hand of the Blessed One,
That will tenderly guide and hold me
Till all my labor is done.

So my thoughts are nevermore gloomy,
My faith no longer is dim,
But my heart is strong and restful,
And mine eyes are looking to Him.