55
THE DISTANT GOAL.
I builded me a palace fair,
Untouched of pain, remote from care,
And with my dreams I tarried there.
I tarried there for one brief day,
Then sorrow came and had its way—
My house of hope in ruins lay.
But, girded with a strength unknown
Before its joy was overthrown.
My soul arose and stood alone;
And gazing past life's sore defeat,
Past earth receding at its feet—
With all the beauty magic-sweet—
