Classic Poem

" The laborers are forth; why tarriest here?
Their song is heard afar while thou dost dream. "
O Thou who to thy children still art near,
From thee upon my soul the call doth gleam!
I must no longer muse beside the stream,
No longer in green-shadowed byways lurk,
But rise and go forth girded for my work, —
To sow beside the waters garnered seeds
Of thought that shall bear fruit of noble act,
And feeling that shall flower in beauteous deeds.
Do thou supply all that my soul hath lacked,
Do thou supply all that my soul still needs, —
The strength of will, the power to be and do
All I have dreamed of fair and good and true!