Providence: The Guardian of Our Weakness. That image in Lowell’s poem of “The Changeling” fascinates me. It is so much what I am and ever wish to be.
“I feel as weak as a violet Alone ‘neath the awful sky.”
Unable to defend myself and apparently undefended, yet guarded by omnipotent love, I would fain pour out a perfume of praise to the Great Invisible who watches over me, and would feel that under the care of Providence I may claim the sweetness of the poet’s next stanza.
“As weak, yet as trustful also; For the whole year long I See All the wonders of faithful nature Still worked for the love of me. Winds wander and dews drip earthward, - Rains fall, suns rise and set, Earth whirls, and all but to prosper A poor little violet.”