Читать книгу Freedom, Truth and Beauty - Edward Doyle - Страница 7

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My darling, spell the words out. You may creep

Across the syllables on hands and knees,

And stumble often, yet pass me with ease

And reach the spring upon the summit steep.

Oh, I could lay me down, dear child, and weep

These charr'd orbs out, but that you then might cease

Your upward effort, and with inquiries

Stoop down and probe my heart too deep, too deep!

I thirst for Knowledge. Oh, for an endless drink

Your goblet leaks the whole way from the spring—

No matter, to its rim a few drops cling,

And these refresh me with the joy to think

That you, my darling, have the morning's wing

To cross the mountain at whose base I sink.

But Edward Doyle has not sunk "at the mountain's base." He is far up its summit, and he will go higher. He has found God, and nothing can hinder his flight. He is an inspiration to all struggling, toiling souls on earth.

As I read his book, with its strong clarion cry of faith and joy and courage, and ponder over the carefully finished thoughts and beautifully polished lines, I feel ashamed of my own small achievements, and am inspired to new efforts.

Glory and success to you, Edward Doyle.

ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.