That she leads me forward___makes for me the way
To the loving tenderness of the Father's face
To unsearchable love, to Kingly grace.
Duty's voice, marvelously still and small,
Maketh gentle pleadings to one and all.
He who obeys that voice finds safe retreat,
Around which no wave of sin may beat.
O wonderful one! with thy winged feet,
Like darting sunbeams they are so fleet___
Art seeking the sorrowful to overtake,
To tell them, all, all is for the Master's sake.
Duty! What hands to pour into poverty's lap
Things good and needful, which otherwise, perhap
Might unblessed go, both from you and me:
Ah, how eloquent that He doth see.
Duty's presence is as the rapture of a dream
Sacred with joy, from the "well-done," I ween;
A song whose soulful cadence might never end,
As things finite and infinite together blend.
__Susan C. Keefe.
Poets and Poetry of Kansas
Thomas B. Herringshaw
(Chicago: American Publishers Association. 1894)