Lent

IS it the Fast which God approves,When I awhile for flesh eat fish,Changing one dainty dishFor others no less good?

Do angels smile and count it gainThat I compose my laughing faceTo gravity for a brief space,Then straightway laugh again?

Does Heaven take pleasure as I sitCounting my joys as usurers gold,—This bit to give, that to withhold,Weighing and measuring it;

Setting off abstinence from danceAs buying privilege of song;Calling six right and seven wrong,With decorous countenance;

Compounding for the dull to-dayBy projects for to-morrow’s fun,Checking off each set task as done,Grudging a short delay?

I cannot think that God will careFor such observance; He can seeThe very inmost heart of me,And every secret there.

But if I keep a truer Lent,Not heeding what I wear or eat,Not balancing the sour with sweet,Evenly abstinent,

And lay my soul with all its stainOf travel from the year-long road,Between the healing hands of GodTo be made clean again;

And put my sordid self away,Forgetting for a little spaceThe petty prize, the eager race,The restless, striving day;

Opening my darkness to the sun,Opening my narrow eyes to seeThe pain and need so close to meWhich I had willed to shun;

Praying God’s quickening grace to showThe thing he fain would have me do,The errand that I may pursueAnd quickly rise and go;—

If so I do it, starving pride,Fasting from sin instead of food,God will accept such Lent as good,And bless its Easter-tide.