The path of duty is the way to glory;
He that walks it, only thirsting
For the right, and learns to deaden
Love of self, before his journey closes,
He shall find the stubborn thistle bursting
Into glossy purples, which outredden
All voluptuous garden-roses:
Shall find the toppling crags of duty, scaled,
Are close upon the shining table-lands
To which our God Himself is morn and sun.
I never heard of an apostle, prophet, or public benefactor resting from their labors; they died with harness on.
