SLOW moves the pageant of a climbing race; Their footsteps drag far, far below the height, And, unprevailing by their utmost might, Seem faltering downward from each hard won place. No strange, swift-sprung exception we; we trace A devious way thro' dim, uncertain light, -- Our hope, through the long vistaed years, a sight Of that our Captain's soul sees face to face. Who, faithless, faltering that the road is steep, Now raiseth up his drear insistent cry? Who stoppeth here to spend a while in sleep Or curseth that the storm obscures the sky? Heed not the darkness round you, dull and deep; The clouds grow thickest when the summit 's nigh. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN SAN MARCO, VENEZIA by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE RIGS O' BARLEY by ROBERT BURNS IN PROGRESS by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THERE WILL COME SOFT RAINS' by SARA TEASDALE ERRING IN COMPANY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE SAILOR; A ROMAIC BALLAD by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM |