English poem
A Journey
by Evelyn Pyne (1853–1937)
I know not whitherward my soul is set — One strait dark path all life's horizon fills, Tho' still far-off the unwavering blessed hills Flame gold and purple, where the sun has met
Their jubilant upturned faces, and even yet Laughs the lush meadow bright with daffodils, Laugh the green valleys with their hurrying rills, And smile the angels o'er heaven's parapet!
One strait dark path — and these things are so fair! Might I but climb the mountain's gleaming height, Dream in the valleys, joy in the sweet light Of pitying angel-eyes — soul, ask not where Life's dark path leadeth thro' the gathering night, But if at ending God and heaven prove there!