He was a failure, and one day he died.
Across the border of the mapless land
He found himself among a sad-eyed band
Of disappointed souls; they, too, had tried
And missed their purpose. With one voice they cried
Unto the shining Angel in command:
‘ Oh, lead us not before our Lord to stand,
For we are failures, failures! Let us hide.’
Yet on the Angel fared, until they stood
Before the Master. ( Even His holy place
The hideous noises of the earth assailed. )
Christ reached His arms out to the trembling brood,
With God's vast sorrow in His listening face.
Come unto Me,’ He said;‘ I, too, have failed.’