I WILL BE WORTHY OF IT.
I may not reach the heights I seek,
My untried strength may fail me,
Or, half-way up the mountain peak,
Fierce tempests may assail me.
But though that place I never gain,
Herein lies comfort for my pain—
I will be worthy of it.
I may not triumph in success,
Despite my earnest labor;
I may not grasp results that bless
The efforts of my neighbor;
But though my goal I never see,
This thought shall always dwell with me—
I will be worthy of it.
The golden glory of Love's light
May never fall on my way;
My path may always lead through night,
Like some deserted by-way;
But though life's dearest joy I miss
There lies a nameless strength in this—
I will be worthy of it.
SONNET.
Methinks ofttimes my heart is like some bee
That goes forth through the summer day and sings.
And gathers honey from all growing things
In garden plot or on the clover lea.
When the long afternoon grows late, and she
Would seek her hive, she cannot lift her wings.
So heavily the too sweet bin den clings,
From which she would not, and yet would, fly free.