The Milestone.
Men and women, a shifting crowd, we hasten by ;1
Less changeful moves a summer cloud across the sky.2
But firmly by the broad highway3
Is set the milestone worn and gray.4
Let him who will its legend read,5
Or idly glance or scorn to heed ;6
Yet it whispers to everyone,7
Just so much of the journey done.8
Just so much of the journey done ere falls the night ;9
Tired feet their way have hither won, and footsteps light.10
Here troop the children warm with play,11
Here fondly dreaming lovers stray.12
Fair as young hope do buds of spring13
About the ancient milestone cling ;14
Still it marks in the morning sun,15
Just so much of the journey done.16
Soft and slow like a mourner’s tears there falls the rain ;17
Through misty half-forgotten years love looks in vain.18
Grief-laden showers, ye may not raise19
The withered flowers of other days ;20
Yours will it rather be to shrine21
The bow whose promise is divine,22
When at last in the setting sun,23
The milestone tells the journey done.24