Page:Songs, Legends, and Ballads.djvu/36

24 Our feet on the torrent's brink.
 * Our eyes on the cloud afar,

We fear the things we think,
 * Instead of the things that are.

Like a tide our work should rise-
 * Each later wave the best;

To-day is a king in disguise,
 * To-day is the special test.

Like a sawyer's work is life:
 * The present makes the flaw.

And the only field for strife
 * Is the inch before the saw.