 | Poems of progress and new thought pastels |  |
THE HOUSE OF LIFE
All wondering and eager eyed, within her portico,I made my plea to Hostess Life, one morning long ago.
“Pray, show me this great house of thine, nor close a single door;
But let me wander where I will and climb from floor to floor!
For many rooms, and curious things, and treasures great and small,
Within your spacious mansion lie, and I would see them all.”
Then Hostess Life turned silently, her searching gaze on me,
And with no word, she reached her hand and offered up the key.
It opened first the door of Hope, and long I lingered there,
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And then a door whereon the one word “Happiness” was writ,
But when I tried the little key, I could not make it fit.
It turned the lock of Pleasure's room where first all seemed so bright,
But after I had stayed awhile, it somehow lost its light.
And wandering down a lonely hall, I came upon a room
Marked “Duty,” and I entered it, to lose myself in gloom.
Along the shadowy halls I groped my weary way about
And found that from dull Duty's room a door of Toil led out.
It led out to another door, whereon a crimson stain
Made sullenly against the dark, these words: “The Room of Pain.”
But, oh, the light! the light! the light! that spilled down from above,
And upward wound the stairs of Faith, right to the tower of Love.
And when I came forth from that place, I tried the little key,
And, lo! the door of Happiness swung open, wide and free.
| Poems of progress and new thought pastels | |