Explore "Aspiration" by Gilbert Parker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
None ever climbed to mountain heights of song, / But felt the touch of some good woman's palm; / None ever reached God's altitude of calm, / But heard one voice cry, "Follow! " from the throng.
I would not place her as an image high / Above my reach, cold, in some dim recess, / Where never she should feel a warm caress / Of this my hand that serves her till I die.
I would not set her higher than my heart, -- / Though she is nobler than I e'er can be; / Because she placed me from the crowd apart,
And with her tenderness she honoured me.
Because of this, I hold me worthier / To be her kinsman, while I worship her.