The world is full of beauty, As other worlds above; And if we did our duty It might be full of love.
What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted? Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just; And he but naked, though locked up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
I slept, and dreamed that life was Beauty; I woke, and found that life was Duty. Was thy dream then, a shadowy lie? Toil on, sad heart, courageously, And thou shalt find that dream to be A noonday light and truth to thee.
Do thy duty; that is best; Leave unto thy Lord the rest.
While I sought Happiness she fled Before me constantly. Weary, I turned to Duty's path, And Happiness sought me, Saying, "I walk this road to-day, I'll bear thee company."
So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man, When Duty whispers low, "Thou must," The youth replies, "I can."
Faithfully faithful to every trust, Honestly honest in every deed, Righteously righteous and justly just; This is the whole of the good man's creed.
Find out what God would have you do, And do that little well; For what is great and what is small 'Tis only he can tell.
I have done at length with dreaming; Henceforth, O thou soul of mine! Thou must take up sword and buckler, Waging warfare most divine.
Life is struggle, combat, victory! Wherefore have I slumbered on With my forces all unmarshaled, With my weapons all undrawn?
O how many a glorious record Had the angels of me kept Had I done instead of doubted, Had I warred instead of wept!
But begone, regret, bewailing! Ye had weakened at the best; I have tried the trusty weapons Resting erst within my breast.
I have wakened to my duty, To a knowledge strong and deep, That I recked not of aforetime, In my long inglorious sleep.
For the end of life is service, And I felt it not before, And I dreamed not how stupendous Was the meaning that it bore.
In this subtle sense of being, Newly stirred in every vein, I can feel a throb electric-- Pleasure half allied with pain.
'Tis so sweet, and yet so awful, So bewildering, yet brave, To be king in every conflict Where before I crouched a slave!
'Tis so glorious to be conscious Of a growing power within Stronger than the rallying forces Of a charged and marshaled sin!
