SLOW THROUGH THE DARK
Slow moves the pageant of a climbing race;
Their footsteps drag far, far below the height,
And, unprevailing by their utmost might,
Seem faltering downward from each hard won place.
No strange, swift-sprung exception we; we trace
A devious way thro' dim, uncertain light,—
Our hope, through the long vistaed years, a sight
Of that our Captain's soul sees face to face.
Who, faithless, faltering that the road is steep,
Now raiseth up his drear insistent cry?
Who stoppeth here to spend a while in sleep
Or curseth that the storm obscures the sky?
Heed not the darkness round you, dull and deep;
The clouds grow thickest when the summit's nigh.
Poem by
Paul Laurence Dunbar
Biography |
Poems
| Best Poems | Short Poems
| Quotes
|
Email Poem |
More Poems by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on SLOW THROUGH THE DARK
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem SLOW THROUGH THE DARK here.
Commenting turned off, sorry.