ATTAINMENT

ELLEN ALMIRA DOW.

No longer strive thyself to run in mold
Preparéd for another man; nor make
A model for thyself; but gladly take
The matchless form that man has borne of old
When morning stars with song did dawn enfold,
And sons of God with shouts of joy did break
The silence of the spheres and echoes wake
That through the æons ring in dale and wold.

Forgotten then will be the days of pain;
The nights wherein no peaceful rest was found.
The sense of loss will never come again,
For everlasting arms shall fold thee round.
This, passing through the door of Truth, attain—
Yet know it is not reached by sudden bound.