LONGING!
We who walk the common pathway
Of this lower world of ours,
Sometimes live in double seeming,
Plucking thorns and flowers.
Of this lower world of ours,
Sometimes live in double seeming,
Plucking thorns and flowers.
Sometimes know a dual being,—
Moments full of passion gleam,
When the hurrying crowd beside us
Fades as in a dream;
Moments full of passion gleam,
When the hurrying crowd beside us
Fades as in a dream;
And the slumbering soul within us
Wakes to an unwonted glow,
Thrilling as the springtime blossoms
Under winter's snow.
Wakes to an unwonted glow,
Thrilling as the springtime blossoms
Under winter's snow.
Though they call us prince or peasant,
Silken robed or hodden gray,
Equal stand we in the presence
Of that inner day.
Silken robed or hodden gray,
Equal stand we in the presence
Of that inner day.
And we rise in might triumphant,
Burning with a high desire,
Burning with a high desire,
