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Worldly Hopes

From The Birmingham Age Herald, June 14, 1913.

 “I’m climbing from the lowlands,”
     A weary pilgrim said,
 “Far up the hills of morning,
     Whose tops are tipped with red.
 I see the sun’s rim blazing
     Beyond the highest peak;
 There lies the goal of all my dreams,
     The goal for which I seek.”
 He climbed up from the lowlands,
     He scaled the peak he sought,
 Through many a whirling tempest,
     Through many a battle fought.
 High on the hills of morning
     He faltered in dismay;
 They were but foothills after all,
     And darkness closed the day.
 ’Tis ever so with dreamers
     With eyes fixed on some goal,
 For which they strive through many years
     And times of heat and cold,
 And spend their lives and break their hearts,
     To find when all is past,
 The prize is not worth half the toil
     By which ’tis won at last.

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