Classic Poem

[ AT TWENTY ]

T O let my high ambitions spoil
That should to noblest uses fit,
To stand in shade and serve as foil
To those who in the sunshine sit, —

I will not shape my destiny
To such poor issues! — should I grow
Downward, like roots, and thus defy
God's purpose, and requite Him so?

And not aspire and not expand? —
O Fame, how grand thou art, and sweet!
And may I sit at thy right hand
Or serve, rejoicing, at thy feet?

[ AT FIFTY ]

I thank my God He did destroy
The dream that thralled my youthful soul
To give me more divine employ
And loftier aim and worthier goal;

To show me how Fame's brightest dream
Grows dim beside a Purpose high;
(Who heeds the rushlight's flickering beam
When God's great sun is in the sky?)

To teach me what a narrow scope
Is his who looks for his award
To earthly praise, beneath the cope,
And not beyond, where dwells the Lord.

And though, when I am gone, scant dole
May fall to me of garnered fame,
If, here and there, some quickened soul
With tearful gladness name my name,

Saying, " I'm worthier for some line,
Some word of hers, " it shall suffice:
It shall be bread to me and wine
And cheer me even in Paradise!