Time brings the deeper understanding that clears up our misconceptions;
it shows us the error of our hates; it dispels our worries and our
fears; it allays the grief that seemed too poignant to be borne.
Yes, things are more or less amiss;
To-day it's that, to-morrow this;
Yet with so much that's out of whack,
Life does not wholly jump the track
Because, since matters move along,
No _one_ thing's always _staying_ wrong.
So heed not failures, losses, fears,
But trust the rectifying years.
What we shall have's not what we've got;
Our pains don't linger in one spot--
They skip about; the seesaw's end
That's up will mighty soon descend;
You've looked at bacon? Life's like that--
A streak of lean, a streak of fat.
Change, like a sky that clouds, that clears,
Hangs o'er the rectifying years.
Uneven things not leveled down
Are somehow simply got aroun';
The sting is taken from offence;
The evil has its recompense;
The broken heart is knit again;
The baffled longing knows not pain;
Wrong fades and trouble disappears
Before the rectifying years.
Then envy, hate towards man or class
Should from your sinful nature pass.
Though others hold a higher place
Or have more power or wealth or grace,
The best of them, be sure, cannot
Escape the common human lot;
So many smiles, so many tears
Come with the rectifying years.
_St. Clair Adams._