Mary Augusta Mason

ALL else lies far beneath me, or above,

And I, between two worlds, uncertain stand;

With eyes uplifted to a vision grand,

Yet without power to soar or upward move.

The steps to heaven are builded of our love,

And mine, alas, so timid on the land

Could never find the way without His hand.

Naught have I in my heart by which to prove

My right to something I ’ve not found below—

Except this constant, strong desire to rise;

It seems so strange the higher up we go—

The farther from earth’s sinful, suffering cries,

That our unworthiness should haunt us so,

And wreck us at the gate of Paradise.