ATTAINMENT

ELLEN ALMIRA DOW.

No longer strive thyself to run in moldPreparéd for another man; nor makeA model for thyself; but gladly takeThe matchless form that man has borne of oldWhen morning stars with song did dawn enfold,And sons of God with shouts of joy did breakThe silence of the spheres and echoes wakeThat 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.

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