The House Of Mercy

I question not, Beloved, nor deny That you had God's own right of punishment; Yet now my sins and days are over and spent Find you the hours so pleasant that go by? Would not the colour of the fields and sky, The odour of the woods, bring more content Now, if a little pity had been lent Then, unto love, to judge a life awry? Upon a day the young June grasses seem Quite still that keep the edge of the still stream; I think you go down close to them, and say: "O little grasses, waiting patiently, I come to tell you this is God's decree: 'I comfort him who suffered yesterday?'"