What countless feet pass on the path of Life!
The road is straight but often hard and steep.
On either side, arrayed in dusty strife,
The trackless deserts sweep.
There flourish thorns of idleness and pleasure
And Fame’s bright pomegranates always grown,
Their purple vines hide hidden caves of treasure,
But bitter seeds are sown.
Here youthful feet are frolicking, void of fear
Where softly runs the path and lush grass grows.
God guard those tender feet from drawing near
The borderland of woes.
What nimble feet are these, dainty, vain...
That spurn the road that tracts through boundless waste?
Will they be quick enough to find the path again
E’er they Life’s sunset taste?
But there! I hear the tread of fearless feet,
Beating rhythmic, purposeful and strong,
Through storm and sunshine, still the way they’ll keep
Their whole life long.
Their flagging feet may try, and try again,
And seem to fail, at times, the steep ascent,
Their zeal now spent, they tried, and not in vain!
And that does bring content.
Beyond Life’s farthest hill the day grows dark
Yet weary feet still ever strive to climb...
These feet of Hope will ever leave their mark
On the lonely path of Time.
