The Father answers.
The harder you run that race,
The farther you tread that track,
The greatness you fancy before your face
Is the farther behind your back.
To be up in the heavens afar,
Miles above all the rest,
Would make a star not the greatest star,
Only the dreariest.
That book on the highest shelf
Is not the greatest book;
If you would be great, it must be in yourself,
Neither by place nor look.
The Highest is not high
By being higher than others;
To greatness you come not a step more nigh
By getting above your brothers.
III.
Willie speaks.
I meant the boys at school,
I did not mean my brother.
Somebody first, is there the rule—
It must be me or another.
The Father answers.
Oh, Willie, it's all the same!
They are your brothers all;
For when you say, "Hallowed be thy name!"
Whose Father is it you call?