We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we pray,
And we think that we mount the air on wings,
Beyond the recall of sensual things,
While our feet still cling to the heavy clay.
Wings for the angels, but feet for the men,
We may borrow the wings to find the way,
We may hope and aspire and resolve and pray,
But our feet must rise or we’ll fall again.
Only in dreams is a ladder thrown
From the weary earth to the sapphire walls;