Heaven is not gained at a single bound;
But we build the ladder by which we rise
From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies,
And we mount to its summit round by round.
I count this thing to be grandly true,
That a noble deed is a step towards God
Lifting the soul from the common sod
To purer air and broader view.
We rise by things that are 'neath our feet;
By what we have mastered of good and 'ain;
By the pride deposed and the passion slain,
And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet.
We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust,
When the morning calls us to life and light,
But our hearts grow weary, and, ere the night
Our lives are trailing the sordid dust.
We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray,
And we think that we mount the air on wings
Beyond the recall of sensual things.
While our feet still cling to the heavy clay.
Wings for the angels, but feet for the men;
We may borrow the wing's to find the way
We may hope and resolve and aspire and pray,
But our feet must rise, or we fail again.
Only in dreams is a ladder thrown
From the weary earth to the sapphire walls;
But the dreams depart, and the vision falls,
And the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone
Heaven is not reached at a single bound
But we build the ladder by which we rise
From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies,
And we mount to its summit round by round.
Josiah Gilbert Holland
(1818 - 1891)
"Through It All"