he ideal is a lifting sky
Wherein my soul may upward fly;
It moveth as I onward journey,
Solace of heart and the light of eye.
Spirit to spirit! Thus is wrought
All that uplifts the world of thought
Or wings the soul with aspiration,
By which the life to its height is brought.
Great souls the mount of vision trod,
While plumy fire their sandals shod;
They saw the unseen and eternal.
O life is life when 'tis seen in God!
he spirit firm and swelling soul
Are heart of noble self-control,
Sources of power transmuting danger
To clarion-call to the man as whole.
'Tis courage helms the bark that's tost
By wild typhoon, or swept by frost,
While sailing life's surprising ocean,—
Strike sail to fear and the bark is lost.
O muse, thou sing'st no siren strain
To him who plows this heaven-domed main!
Thy starry eyes look down all-wistful
On souls that toy with a tangled skein.