Poet of Earth
Oh, be not ether-borne, poet of earth;
Stretch not thy wings to such a cloudless height
As ne’er to know the darkness of the night,
As ne’er to feel the touch of grief or mirth
That lives in human sympathy, whose birth
Is longed for in this world of love and blight;
Thou, too, must drink of sorrow and delight,
Must taste the joy of hope, and feel its dearth;
God’s service lies not out of reach, and heaven
Is found alone through lowly ministry;
Some souls there are whose dumb chords wait the breath
Of other souls, divinely gifted, given
To voice the deeper tones, and lead the way
To immortality, through life and death!