J. K. Lombard


Not, my soul, what thou hast done,
But what thou now art doing;
Not the course which thou hast run.
But that which thou'rt pursuing;
Not the prize already won,
But that which thou art wooing;

Thy progression, not thy rest;
Striving, not attaining, —
Is the measure and the test
Of thy hope remaining.
Not in gain art thou so blest
As in conscious gaining.

If thou to the Past wilt go,
Of Experience learning,
Faults and follies it can show,
Wisdom dearly earning;
But the path once trodden, know,
Hath no more returning.

Let not thy good hope depart,
Sit not down bewailing;
Rouse thy strength anew, brave heart !
'Neath despair's assailing;
This will give thee fairer start, —
Knowledge of thy failing.

Yet shall every rampart wrong
In the dust be lying;
Soon thy foes, though proud and strong,
In defeat be flying;
Then shall a triumphant song
Take the place of sighing.

Labels: J. K. Lombard, Poetry