The Bars of Fate
“There ain’t no such beast,” ejaculated a farmer as he gazed at the rhinoceros at a circus. His incredulity did not of course do away with the existence of the creature. But our incredulity about many of our difficulties will do away with them. They exist chiefly in our imaginations.
I stood before the bars of Fate
And bowed my head disconsolate;
So high they seemed, so fierce their frown.
I thought no hand could break them down.
Beyond them I could hear the songs
Of valiant men who marched in throngs;
And joyful women, fair and free,
Looked back and waved their hands to me.
I did not cry “Too late! too late!”
Or strive to rise, or rail at Fate,
Or pray to God. My coward heart,
Contented, played its foolish part.
So still I sat, the tireless bee
Sped o’er my head, with scorn for me,
And birds who build their nests in air
Beheld me, as I were not there.
From twig to twig, before my face,
The spiders wove their curious lace,
As they a curtain fine would see
Between the hindering bars and me.
Then, sudden change! I heard the call
Of wind and wave and waterfall;
From heaven above and earth below
A clear command—“ARISE AND GO!”
I upward sprang in all my strength,
And stretched my eager hands at length
To break the bars—no bars were there;
My fingers fell through empty air!
Ellen M.H. Gates.
From “To the Unborn Peoples.”