A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter

Ui8 PODS 01' RD'LJ!OTIOl'l .&1m ~.

All thoughta of ill, all evil deeds,

That have their root in thoughta of ill ;

Whatever hindere or impedes

The action of the nobler will r

All tb-must firet be trampled down

Beneath our feet, if we would gain,

Iu the bright field of .Fair Renown,

The right of eminent domnin.

We have not wings, we cannot &oaJ';

But we have feet to seale and climb

By slow degrees, by more and more,

The cloudy summiiAI of our time.

The mighty py1'4mids of stone

That wedge-like cleave the desert airt,

When ne~r seen, and better known,

Are but gigantic flighta ofatairs.

The distant mountams that uprear

Their frowning forehearla to the skies,

Are croaa'd by pathways, th.n.t appear

AB we to higher level.ll rise.

The heights by great men reach'd and kept,

Were not attain'd by sudden tlight;

But they, while their companions slept,

Were toiling upward in the night.

Standing on what too long we bore

With shoulders bent and downcast eyes,

We may discern-unseen before-

A path to higher destinies.

N or deem the irrevocable PASt

AB wholly wasted, wholly vain,

Tf, rising on iiAI wrecks, at last

To something nobler we att&in.

.Lowo:rm.ww.