WE climb the hill; the mist conceals That valley where we could not stay; Surely this hill's crest, gained, reveals The glory of the sunlit day. The hill is climbed. Still shadow-land -- Still darkling looms another hill. Oh, weary feet! -- climb that to find A new ascent, 'mid shadows still! We dare not stop or think of rest, This one hill may be all that lies Between us and our souls' desire -- The splendour of the eastern skies. Through long long lives we till and tend, Sow, weed, and water, all in vain; Without the flower we looked to find, Each year springs, blooms, and dies again. Bowed down with our unanswered prayers, Our face averted from our past, We watch each year grow green, and cry, 'Surely this brings our flower at last!' Failure on failure! What! tired out? Too tired to live? Ah, dare you die When this new year may bud and bear Your longed-for flower of Liberty? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHRISTMAS CAROL by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE SIX TOWN ECLOGUES: SATURDAY; THE SMALL-POX by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 3. AR-RAHEEM by EDWIN ARNOLD THE WITHERED ROSE by PHILIP AYRES PSALM 22. DEUS DEUS MEUS by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE POMEGRANATES by RUTH FOSS BREWER |