Is dark with doubt and gloom, but by and by
The clouds will lift and you will see God’s face. 
For there is one in heaven whose pleading tongue
Will pray for blessings on her only son
Of Him who heeds the little sparrow’s fall;—­
And O if He will listen to my prayers,
The gates of heaven shall echo to my voice
Morning and evening,—­only keep your heart.’ 
I said: 

“’Pauline, your prayers had rolled away
The ponderous stone that closed the tomb of Christ;
And while they rise to heaven for my success
I cannot doubt, or I should doubt my God. 
I think I see a pathway through this gloom;
I have a kinsman’—­and I told her where—­
’A lawyer; I have heard my mother say—­
A self-made man with charitable heart;
And I might go and study under him;
I think he would assist me.’

“Then she sighed: 
’Paul, can you leave me?  You may study here
And here you are among your boyhood friends,
And here I should be near to cheer you on.’

“I promised her that I would think of it—­
Would see what prospect offered in the town;
And then we walked together half-embraced,
But when we neared her vine-arched garden gate,
She bade me stay and kissed me a good-night
And bounded through the moonlight like a fawn. 
I watched her till she flitted from my sight,
Then slowly homeward turned my lingering steps. 
I wrote my kinsman on the morrow morn,
And broached my project to a worthy man
Who kept an office and a case of books—­
An honest lawyer.  People called him learn’d,
But wanting tact and ready speech he failed. 
The rest were pettifoggers—­scurrilous rogues
Who plied the village justice with their lies,
And garbled law to suit the case in hand—­
Mean, querulous, small-brained delvers in the mire
Of men’s misfortunes—­crafty, cunning knaves,
Versed in chicane and trickery that schemed
To keep the evil passions of weak men
In petty wars, and plied their tongues profane
With cunning words to argue honest fools
Into their spider-meshes to be fleeced. 
I laid my case before him; took advice—­
Well-meant advice—­to leave my native town,
And study with my kinsman whom he knew. 
A week rolled round and brought me a reply—­
A frank and kindly letter—­giving me
That which I needed most—­encouragement. 
But hard it was to fix my mind to go;
For in my heart an angel whispered ‘Stay.’ 
It might be better for my after years,
And yet perhaps,’twere better to remain. 
I balanced betwixt my reason and my heart,
And hesitated.  Her I had not seen
Since that sad night, and so I made resolve
That we should meet, and at her father’s house. 
So whispering courage to my timid heart
I went.  With happy greeting at the door
She met me, but her face was wan and pale—­
So pale and wan I feared that she was ill. 
I read the letter to her, and she sighed,
And sat in silence for a little time,
Then said: