Poem February 6, 1932 Issue

Reflection

MABEL CONE BUSHNELL

I climbed my weary way,
The jagged rocks were rough along the road,
The fog hung low:
I climbed my weary way with lagging steps,
Halting and slow.

It seemed as though I made
No gain, except a toiling step or two,
And so I sang,
Uplifting thought to melodies divine
Till echo rang.

I climbed and sang, and then
Humbly I knew what echo answered clear—
Know Him, nor care.
Uplifting eyes—the mountain peak appeared,
And I was there!

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February 6, 1932

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