Excerpt from Our City Schools, Their Direction and Management
But to the spirit select there is no choice; He cannot say, This will I do, or that, For the cheap means putting Heaven"s ends in pawn, And bartering his bleak rocks, the freehold stern Of destiny"s first-born, for smoother fields That yield no crop of self-denying will; A hand is stretched to him from out the dark. Which grasping without question, he is led Where there is work that he must do for God.
Chances have laws as fixed as planets have, And disappointment"s dry and bitter root, Envy"s harsh berries, and the choking pool Of the world"s scorn, are the right mother-milk To the tough hearts that pioneer their kind. And break a pathway to those unknown realms That in the earth"s broad shadow lie enthralled; Endurance is the crowning quality, And patience all the passion of great hearts; These are their stay, and when the leaden world Sets its hard face against their fateful thought. And brute strength like a scornful conqueror. Clangs his huge mace down in the other scale, The inspired soul but flings his patience in, And slowly that outweighs the ponderous globe, - One faith against a whole earth"s unbelief. One soul against the flesh of all mankind."
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