C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Nathan Haskell Dole (1852–1935)

THE ABBÉ MICHAEL dreamed one night

That heaven was open to his sight;

And first among the radiant throng

Which filled the streets with praise and song,

He saw a man whose reckless might

Had seamed his earthly life with wrong.

The Abbé saw not streets of gold,

Or splendid mansions manifold,

Or sea of glass, or jewels rare,

Or pearly gates beyond compare,

Or hosts of angels richly stoled;—

He only saw this sinner there!

The hymns of triumph reached his ears,

But brought no solace for his tears;

Peace from his jealous soul had flown:

“My life is spent for God alone,”

He cried; “and yet this man appears

Among the nearest to the throne.”

But ere he woke he heard a voice,

Which said unto his heart, “Rejoice!

The diamond which is full of light

Was once a coal as black as night!

Judge not the means which God employs

To make the wrong bloom into right.”