I was not meant to ply a thread
In garments soft, nor fine and white.
Oh no!  Nor was I meant to tend a house,
Or sweep the hearth, or dim the light.
No!  I was meant for other things;
To sweep a cob-web from the sky;
To hear amid the knowing stars, a voice –
A whispering hope go by.
Ah, me!
Yes, I was meant to weave a strand
Into the darkest night of destiny.
I’ve stood upon the mountain height
With human tapers far below.
Up!  Up!  Unto a greater height I’ve soared,
And there I’ve caught a greater glow.
Yes, I have seen the thunder flash
And the great broad gates yawn wide.
You’ve seen them too, but you haven’t seen
The form on the mountain side.
Destiny, working amid the toils;
Lifting up purity, burning the spoils;
Cleansing a sin with that greater glow;
Lifting a soul from those tapers below.
Up!  Up!  To Eternity –
Ah, me!
I was not meant to tend the house
Or sweep the hearth, or dim the light;
But just to weave a single strand
Into the darkest night
Of Destiny.

–  1926

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