Classic Poem

Say, is your lamp burning, my brother?
I pray you, look quickly and see;
For if it were burning, then surely,
Some beam would fall bright over me.
There are many and many around you,
Who follow wherever you go;
If you knew that they walked in the shadow,
Your lamp would burn brighter, I know.

Upon the dark mountains they stumble;
They are bruised on the rocks, and they lie
With white, pleading faces, turned upward,
To the stars in the pitiful sky.
There is many a lamp that is lighted,
We behold them anear and afar,
But not many among them, my brother,
Shine steadily on, like a star.

If once all the lamps that are lighted
Should steadily blaze in a line,
Wide over the land and the ocean
A girdle of glory would shine!
The darkest of places would brighten;
The mists would roll up and away,
And Earth would laugh out in her gladness,
To hail the millennial day!

Say, is your lamp burning, my brother?
I pray you, look quickly and see;
For if it were burning, then surely,
Some beam would fall bright over me.
There are many and many around you,
Who follow wherever you go;
If you knew that they walked in the shadow,
Your lamp would burn brighter, I know.

Upon the dark mountains they stumble;
They are bruised on the rocks, and they lie
With white, pleading faces, turned upward,
To the stars in the pitiful sky.
There is many a lamp that is lighted,
We behold them anear and afar,
But not many among them, my brother,
Shine steadily on, like a star.

If once all the lamps that are lighted
Should steadily blaze in a line,
Wide over the land and the ocean
A girdle of glory would shine!
The darkest of places would brighten;
The mists would roll up and away,
And Earth would laugh out in her gladness,
To hail the millennial day!