Classic Poem

The consolation which carries us along is that, seeing there is but one true road no one can err therein .

C ONSUMMATION

Fear not frustration of our good intent,
 But fear the feeble working of our wills;
Fail'd never yet the soul which, seeking, went,
Far as soul could, upon the great ascent:
What by the Word Divine—say, God—is meant?
He that fulfils!
Do not despise the trifles, but do not let them deceive us!