<h2><SPAN name="page122"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"></span>FLEEING AWAY</h2>
<p class="poetry">My thoughts soar not as they ought to soar,<br/>
Higher and higher on soul-lent wings;<br/>
But ever and often, and more and more<br/>
They are dragged down earthward by little things,<br/>
By little troubles and little needs,<br/>
As a lark might be tangled among the weeds.</p>
<p class="poetry">My purpose is not what it ought to be,<br/>
Steady and fixed, like a star on high,<br/>
But more like a fisherman’s light at sea;<br/>
Hither and thither it seems to fly—<br/>
Sometimes feeble, and sometimes bright,<br/>
Then suddenly lost in the gloom of night.</p>
<p class="poetry">My life is far from my dream of life—<br/>
Calmly contented, serenely glad;<br/>
But, vexed and worried by daily strife,<br/>
It is always troubled, and ofttimes sad—<br/>
And the heights I had thought I should reach one day<br/>
Grow dimmer and dimmer, and farther away.</p>
<p class="poetry"><SPAN name="page123"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
123</span>My heart finds never the longed-for rest;<br/>
Its worldly striving, its greed for gold,<br/>
Chilled and frightened the calm-eyed guest,<br/>
Who sometimes sought me in days of old;<br/>
And ever fleeing away from me<br/>
Is the higher self that I long to be.</p>
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