 | The poetical works of Lucy Larcom |  |
299
CLIMBING TO REST.
Still must I climb, if I would rest:
The bird soars upward to his nest;
The young leaf on the tree-top high
Cradles itself within the sky.
The bird soars upward to his nest;
The young leaf on the tree-top high
Cradles itself within the sky.
The streams, that seem to hasten down,
Return in clouds, the hills to crown;
The plant arises from her root,
To rock aloft her flower and fruit.
Return in clouds, the hills to crown;
The plant arises from her root,
To rock aloft her flower and fruit.
I cannot in the valley stay:
The great horizons stretch away!
The very cliffs that wall me round
Are ladders unto higher ground.
The great horizons stretch away!
The very cliffs that wall me round
Are ladders unto higher ground.
To work—to rest—for each a time;
I toil, but I must also climb.
What soul was ever quite at ease
Shut in by earthly boundaries?
I toil, but I must also climb.
What soul was ever quite at ease
Shut in by earthly boundaries?
I am not glad till I have known
Life that can lift me from my own:
A loftier level must be won,
A mightier strength to lean upon.
Life that can lift me from my own:
A loftier level must be won,
A mightier strength to lean upon.
And heaven draws near as I ascend;
The breeze invites, the stars befriend:
All things are beckoning toward the Best:
I climb to thee, my God, for rest!
The breeze invites, the stars befriend:
All things are beckoning toward the Best:
I climb to thee, my God, for rest!
| The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | |