A Cry From the Depths in a Day
I stumble about day and night,
I shuffle and loll in the way;
When 'tis dark I grope for the light,
And I see but heed not in the-day.
I walk when I might better run;
I crouch when I might better climb;
And I leave many duties undone
Through a listless employment of time.
Just a loiterer am I at best;
Just a rover at random, endued
With wandering motives, and zest
For the shallow and fickle and crude.
Half-hearted in seeking the right,
Half caring which way I shall go,
I know not a half that I might,
And I heed not a half that I know.
But I hope my meanderings trend
Up the slopes to the fair hill-sights,
Where sunset glories shall blend
To inspire in me purer delights;
Where the soul sees its worth and its power,
And is lured to lofty pursuit;
Where the germ of resolve comes to flower,
And the flower to generous fruit.
Quillings In Verse
John Edward Everett
(Smith Center: ___. 1912)
May 13, 2003 /
John & Susan Howell /
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