O weary one, long searching for the day,
Faint not, nor fear, though rough the unused way,
Since Love is near; and Love's refining fires
Will separate the gold and leave the clay,
For Love inspires.
And though the sense-clouds lower and swift tears start,
'Tis but illusion. Now the shadows part,
The day-star points above to upper rooms,
Where Mind is one, one with our grateful heart,
For Love illumes.
And if the path seems hard, the hillside steep,
Look up, O traveler! Leave thy load, nor weep!
'Tis but the baggage of some earth-bound state;
Behold! Look up! True to the pathway keep!
And Love will designate.
And should the thorns and rocks along the way
Seem all too dense for thee, thy courage stay;
Reach forth thine hand and Love will meet thy needs
, And guide thee onward to the glorious day—
'Tis Love that leads.
