by
1819-1881
Heaven is not reached at a single bound;
But we
build the ladder by which we rise
From the lowly earth to the vaulted
skies,
And we mount to its summit, round by round.
I count this thing to be grandly true:
That a
noble deed is a step towards God,—
Lifting the sould from the common
clod
To a purer air and a broader view.
We rise by the things that are under feet;
By what
we have mastered of good and gain;
By the pride deposed and the passion
slain,
And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet.
We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust,
When the
morning calls us to life and light,
But our hearts grow weary, and, ere the
night,
Our lives are trailing the sorid dust.
We hope, we resolve, we aspire, 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 men!
We may
borrow the wings to find the way—
We may hope, and resolve, and aspire,
and pray;
But our feet must rist, or we fall again.
Only in dreams is a ladder thrown
From the weary
earth to the sapphire walls;
But the dreams depart, and the vision
falls,
And the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone.
Heaven is not reached at a single bound;
But we
build the ladder by which we rise
From the lowly earth to the vaulted
skies,
And we mount to its summit, round by round.
Return to: First Lines In His Steps