AN IDEAL by ARTHUR O. HUNTLEY

A heavenly day may come our way
And the world be free from pain;
And hearts that ache no more may break,
But may come to their own again.
For what is the use of strife or truce,
And what is the use of toil;
If we cannot beguile the things worthwhile,
But must act as a barren foil?

Just a beautiful dream is a wonderful scheme
For bringing to life a thought;
And if we strive for a thought alive,
The battle is well nigh fought.
Then gird your armor and strive the harder;
Though we lose in the fight today,
There's a lucky sup and a brimming cup
If we do not shirk the fray.

We are never sure what we can endure
Until we have made the try;
And if we help bear some desperate care
Of a soul with a breaking sigh,
The clouds of doubt will vanish throughout,
And though all seems dark and drear;
If we vow the ideal shall be made the real,
The skies will speedily clear.

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