Much wonder I--here long low-laid - br    That this dead wall should be br Betwixt the Maker and the made, br    Between Thyself and me! br br For, say one puts a child to nurse, br    He eyes it now and then br To know if better 'tis, or worse, br    And if it mourn, and when. br br But Thou, Lord, giv'st us men our clay br    In helpless bondage thus br To Time and Chance, and seem'st straightway br    To think no more of us! br br That some disaster cleft Thy scheme br    And tore us wide apart, br So that no cry can cross, I deem; br    For Thou art mild of heart, br br And would'st not shape and shut us in br    Where voice can not he heard: br 'Tis plain Thou meant'st that we should win br    Thy succour by a word. br br Might but Thy sense flash down the skies br    Like man's from clime to clime, br Thou would'st not let me agonize br    Through my remaining time; br br But, seeing how much Thy creatures bear - br    Lame, starved, or maimed, or blind - br Thou'dst heal the ills with quickest care br    Of me and all my kind.