STILL must I climb, if I would rest: The bird soars upward to his nest; The young leaf on the treetop 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. I cannot in the valley stay: 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 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. 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! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COLORADO MORTON'S RIDE by LEONARD BACON (1887-1954) STANZAS; HOOD'S LAST POEM by THOMAS HOOD A FIT OF RHYME AGAINST RHYME [OR, RIME] by BEN JONSON THE RUINES OF TIME by EDMUND SPENSER MAN FRAIL AND GOD ETERNAL by ISAAC WATTS ON A GRAVE IN CHRIST-CHURCH, HANTS by OSCAR FAY ADAMS MERCURY; ON LOSING MY POCKET MILTON AT LUSS NEAR BEN LOMOND by ROBERT ANDREWS |