Classic Poem

Lay down thy burden here;
With such a weary load
Thou canst not climb yon hill,
Yon steep and rugged road.

'Tis rough, and wild, and high,
Thickets and rocks impede;
Scant resting-place between,
How canst thou upward speed!

Lay down thy burden here,
Poor weary son of time;
So shall thy limbs be strong,—
So shalt thou upward climb.

The sun is hot, no cloud
To shield thee from his ray;
It scorches up thy strength,
Stay now, poor climber, stay.

Thou breathest hard, the drops
Are on thy burning brow;
Try not another step,
Lay down thy burden now.

So shalt thou climb yon hill,
Up to its steepest height;
Like eagle of the rock,
With easy joyful flight.

So shalt thou bear the toils
Thy God appoints to thee;
So shalt thou serve thy God
In happy liberty.