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Creeping Up the Stairs

From the Omaha Daily Bee, September 12, 1912.
Author Unknown.

 In the softly fading twilight
   Of a weary, weary day,
 With a quiet step I entered
   Where the children were at play;
 I was brooding over some trouble
   Which had met me unawares,
 When a little voice came ringing:
   “Me is creeping up the stairs.”
 Ah, it touched the tenderest heart-strings
   With a breath and force divine,
 And such melodies awakened
   As no wording can define.
 And I turned to see our darling,
   All forgetful of my cares,
 When I saw the little creature
   Slowly creeping up the stairs.
 Step by step she bravely clambered
   On her little hands and knees,
 Keeping up a constant chattering,
   Like a magpie in the trees,
 Till at last she reached the topmost
   When over all her world’s affairs
 She delightfully stood a victor
   After creeping up the stairs.
 Fainting heart, behold an image
   Of man’s brief and struggling life,
 Whose best prizes must be captured
   With a noble, earnest strife;
 Onward, upward reaching ever,
   Bending to the weight of cares,
 Hoping, fearing, still expecting,
   We go creeping up the stairs.
 On their steps may be no carpet,
   By their side may be no rail;
 Hands and knees may often pain us,
   And the heart may almost fail;
 Still above there is the glory,
   Which no sinfulness impairs,
 With its joy and rest forever,
   After creeping up the stairs.

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