 | The poetical works of Edward Rowland Sill |  |
70
THE CHOICE
Only so much of power each day—So much nerve-force brought in play;
If it goes for politics or trade,
Ends gained or money made,
You have it not for the soul and God—
The choice is yours, to soar or plod.
So much water in the rill:
It may go to turn the miller's wheel,
Or sink in the desert, or flow on free
To brighten its banks in meadows green,
Till broadening out, fair fields between,
It streams to the moon-enchanted sea.
Only so little power each day:
Week by week days slide away;
Ere the life goes, what shall it be—
A trade—a game—a mockery,
Or the gate of a rich Eternity?
| The poetical works of Edward Rowland Sill | |