Poetry

Lake County Press, Issue 2290, 16 September 1909, Page 2

Poetry

THE TWO GATES. (By Priscilla Leonard.) The gate of If is wide and high. It looks o’er pleasant ways. To castles rising to the sky, To golden glorious days. The hills of hope beyond it rise, The highroads of delight! But, ah ! this door to paradise Is always padlocked tight! The gate of Now is small and low Beside the trodden way; Few ever notice it, although

All pass it every day. It leads at first to nothing fine. Its paths plod on afar. But day or night, in rain or shine. It ever stands ajar. Always before If’s fast-locked gate A throng of lingerers sigh, For. looking through its bars of fate. Far on the hills they spy Those who have found the road. “They entered !’’ cry they. Nay, ’Twas through Now’s gate, far in the rear. Beside the dusty way !