A laggard in the rear of time's swift feet, br And one who loiters on an aimless way br Through lands he knows not; lured by birds to stray br In secret paths where silence holds the beat br And rust ascending wings. Roads meet; br He turns by hazard of some far-glimpsed spray br Of blossoming tree. Shall condemnation say, br Unprofitable! Empty thy days as fleet? br br Nay, if perchance he wanders Paradise, br And in unhurried immortality, br Treads child-like wise and ignorant the thrice br Blessed, ultimate regions of the throne of God? br Then needs he not to fear who walks the sod br Of Heain angels' radiant company.