 | Sursum Corda |  |
91
ON LOW LEVELS.
When deeds of heroes were the theme,
My heart in youth leaped high;
When poets sang of Love's young dream,
What dreams of Love had I!
My heart in youth leaped high;
When poets sang of Love's young dream,
What dreams of Love had I!
'Tis over now, the fever-heat;
'Tis past, the passion's hour;
My feet have followed all the feet
Far 'neath the peaks that tower.
'Tis past, the passion's hour;
My feet have followed all the feet
Far 'neath the peaks that tower.
O snowy peaks, that flame with day!
Contentedly I see
Specks on you that are men, and say,
Not those the paths for me!
Contentedly I see
Specks on you that are men, and say,
Not those the paths for me!
92
This only striving, to confess
The peaks are just as bright,
Nor those who reach are heroes less,
Though I must walk in night.
The peaks are just as bright,
Nor those who reach are heroes less,
Though I must walk in night.
| Sursum Corda | |