Epigram LXXVI

Dear brother, I have found the way
Though steep and narrow: and they say
Of old 't was trod by many a seer
Who knew his end and climbed from sphere to sphere.

Searching my heart I found the clue,
One truth though nothing else be true:
Sorrow within us and without,
And Sorrow nearer clinging when we doubt.

From yonder pure celestial height
Flooding our path a wondrous light
Pours on us; and where'er we go,
This haunting shadow of ourselves we throw.

So be it: if along the track
On Sorrow still we turn our back,
We too may climb to that high doom
With light before us and behind the gloom.