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Ernestness

The hurry of the times affects us so
 
In this swift rushing hour, we crowd and press
 
And thrust each other backward as we go,
 
And do not pause to lay sufficient stress
 
Upon that good, strong, true word, Earnestness.
 
In our impetuous haste, could we but know
 
Its full, deep meaning, its vast import, oh,
 
Then might we grasp the secret of success!
 
In that receding age when men were great,
 
The bone and sinew of their purpose lay
 
In this one word. God likes an earnest soul—
 
Too earnest to be eager. Soon or late
 
It leaves the spent horde breathless by the way,
 
And stands serene, triumphant at the goal.
Other works by Ella Wheeler Wilcox...



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