Paul's answer turned Gamaliel's sentiment Into pure wonder, pity purged away. Deeper and deeper in perplexity Sank the old man, the more in thought he strove; As when the swallow of a quicksand sucks Downward but faster one who writhes in vain. Silent he listening lay, and Paul went on: "I have thus counted as the vain world counts, Summing the gains of my apostleship. I myself reckon otherwise than thus. For, what was gain to me, in that old state Wherein thou knewest thy disciple Saul, This count I now but only loss and dross, Yea, all things count but dross, all things save one, To know Christ Jesus, and be known of Him. That knowledge is the one true treasure mine; True, for eternal; mine, for not the world, Nor life, nor death, nor present things, nor things To come, nor height, nor depth, nor aught beside Created in the universe of God, Can from me wrest this one true good away. I have had sorrow, but amid it joy; Pain has been mine, but hidden in it peace; Rest, deeper than the weariness, has still My much-abounding weariness beguiled; Immortal food my hunger has assuaged, And drink of everlasting life, my thirst. I have sung praises in imprisonment, At midnight, with my feet fast in the stocks, And my back bleeding raw from Roman rods; So much the spirit of glory and of power Prevailed to make me conqueror of ill. Tossed in whatever sea of bitterness, Wide as the world, and weltering with waves, A fountain of sweet water still I find Fresh as from Elim rising to my lips. A parable in paradox, sayest thou, But--"
Stephen here his eyes wide open laid And looked a look of simple love on Paul. His sleep had sudden-perfect been, as night At the equator instantly is dark; And now, as day at the equator dawns Full splendor, and no twilight of degrees, So Stephen was at once and all awake. He straight, without surprise, remembered all, Or, needing not remember, recognized. Paul caught his nephew's upward look of love, And sheathed it in the light of his own eyes, Which, downward bent a moment on the boy, Gave him his gift with usury again. "Behold," said Paul, "my parable made plain By parable not dark with paradox. A sea of bitterness was yesterday Poured round me in that madding multitude That tossed me on the shoulders of its waves; But here is this my loving nephew, Stephen, A fountain of sweet water in the sea-- Art thou not, Stephen?--whence to drink my fill. But this is parable of parable; No more--for what I mean is still to speak. Know, then, there is no earthly accident Of evil that has happened me, or can Happen, nay, and no swelling flood of such, Of any power at all to touch with harm The peace that passeth understanding, fixed By Jesus in my inward firmament; The sea less vainly might assail the stars."