"
* * * * *
AT FORTY YEARS[58] (1832)
When for forty years we've climbed the rugged mountain,
We stop and backward gaze;
Yonder still we see our childhood's peaceful fountain,
And youth exulting strays.
One more glance behind, and then, new strength acquiring,
Staff grasped, no longer stay;
See, a further slope, a long one, still aspiring
Ere downward turns the way!
Take a brave long breath and toward the summit hie thee--
The goal shall draw thee on;
When thou think'st it least, the destined end is nigh thee--
Sudden, the journey's done!
* * * * *
BEFORE THE DOORS[59]
I went to knock at Riches' door;
They threw me a farthing the threshold o'er.
To the door of Love did I then repair--
But fifteen others already were there.
To Honor's castle I took my flight--
They opened to none but to belted knight.
The house of Labor I sought to win--
But I heard a wailing sound within.
To the house of Content I sought the way--
But none could tell me where it lay.
One quiet house I yet could name,
Where last of all, I'll admittance claim;
Many the guests that have knocked before,
But still--in the grave--there's room for more.
[Illustration: AUGUST GRAF VON PLATEN-HALLERMUND]
_AUGUST VON PLATEN-HALLERMUND_
* * * * *
THE PILGRIM BEFORE ST.
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