The joy is in the making. While we sow
Our dream is wonderful with flowers, we name
The purlieus of our garden and the aim
Is worth the effort, yet we cannot know
The garden will be just a garden, so
The dream is heaven. This way mothers frame
The child's high dedication to its fame,
Repaid for all reality may show.
God knows this, so He lets us have the best,
The vast anticipation, rugged man
Joys in the struggle, triumphs over throes,
Vanquished a thousand times he still finds zest
In hope and all his pleasure in a plan
To be fulfilled at length in Heaven?—who knows.
[THE WAYFARER]
Half way to happiness,
The whole way back again,
Stumbling up the stubborn hill
From the luring lane.
Little sunset House of Hearts
Standing all alone,
I could come and sweep the leaves
From your stepping stone.
I, and he, could light your fires
Laughing at the rain
But O it's far to Happiness,
A short way back again.
[RENUNCIATION]
Not what I ask, but what I do not ask,
O my Beloved, proves my love for you.
And love can set to love no harder task
Than wistful silence, reticence to sue.