It leapt, it tried to catch his eye;
Its master, yea, its God was there.
Then, as a thrill of wonder sped
Through throngs of shining seraphim,
The Judge of All looked down and said:
“Lo! here is one who pleads for him.
“And who shall love of these the least,
And who by word or look or deed
Shall pity show to bird or beast.
By Me shall have a friend in need.
Aye, though his sin be black as night,
And though he stand ’mid men alone,
He shall be softened in My sight,
And find a pleader by My Throne.
“So let this man to glory win;
From life to life salvation glean;
By pain and sacrifice and sin,
Until he stand before Me–clean.
For he who loves the least of these
(And here I say and here repeat)
Shall win himself an angel’s pleas
For Mercy at My Judgment Seat.”
I take my exercise in the form of walking. It keeps me fit and leaves me free to think. In this way I have come to know Paris like my pocket. I have explored its large and little streets, its stateliness and its slums.
But most of all I love the Quays, between the leafage and the sunlit Seine. Like shuttles the little steamers dart up and down, weaving the water into patterns of foam.
