Work’s Worth

WORK'S WORTH, By that divine unrest that spurs thee on, And fills thy soul with deepest discontent, By that despair ambition feeds upon, 'Tis not for thee to judge thy work's intent. There is a battle that we all must fight, Against the proud, deep fear we stand in lest Our work shall seem unworthy in the sight Of those great gods, whose creeds we have confessed; At whose high altar-fires we kneel to pray For light to guide us on to realms yet higher, For knowledge of the secret of their sway O'er kingdoms unto which our souls aspire. Yet we should not forget to cease sometimes Our worship, and our hopelessness give o'er To hours of toil with chisel, brush, or rhymes; And dare to own our work, nor brand it poor. I. R. @9S3@0®fgO@@(^^O®