BY ELLA WHEELER COX.

I may not reach the heights I seek,
   My untried strength may fail me ;
Or, half-way up the mountain peak
   Fierce tempests may assail me.
But though that place I never gain,
   Herein lies comfort for my pain--
I will be worthy of it.
   Despite my earnest labor;
I may not triumph in success,
   I may not grasp results that bless
The effort of my neighbor
   But though my goal I never see
This thought shall always dwell with me--
   I will be worthy of it.
The golden glory of Love's light
   May never fall on my way ;
My path may always lead through night,
   Like some deserted by-way
But though life's dearest joy I miss
There lies a nameless strength in this--
   I will be worthy of it.

        Pittsburg Sunday Press.