Where All May Climb

WHERE ALL MAY CLIMB- (For the Improvement Era.) There's a dazzling city they call Success, And it stands in the sun's red glare, Where the pilgrims of effort by strange ways press To a stand on the proud heights there; And close to the portals a messenger waits To welcome all travelers to enter the gates. Some ride to its shelter in purple array, On paths where the storms never come, With courtiers paving and strewing the way Till all of the journey is done; Who, standing aloof in the luxurious time, Would tell us the summit is easy to climb. Some long for its splendor, but stand back and weep, In the midst of the weary throng, Who sigh that the peaks are too dizzy and steep, And the way of the journey too long; Who long for the blossoming gardens of pow'r, Yet weary of seeking their height, in an hour . Some dash on their wav to this city of fame, Who smilingly boast as they go That no pinnacle there is too lofty an aim For the arrow their wielding can throw; Who, like unto Patheon — child of the sun — Dash back to the earth ere the journey is done. Some plod through the steeps where storms only descend, Who, braving the rage of the gale, Toil patiently on till life wears to its end, And we say of their works, "They have failed." Frail judges, we mortals, who measure and guess At the souls that shall enter the world of Success. Bertha A. Kleinman. Salt Lake City, Utah.