The Suburban Citizen

A fever in the blood that burns
By day and night!
A heart unsatisfied that turns
Toward the height!
An eagle in the soul that yearns
For boundless flight!
An inner self that sees a star
Above you glow,
Then shows how poor a thing you are
And bids you grow;
That points you to a goal afar
And bids you go!
A hand that ever points the way
To glories new!
Above the future's hills, a ray
That shines for you!
A voice that ever seems to say,
'Arise and do!'
From prophecy that looks before.
A magic word,
By which your very spirit's core
Is thrilled and stirred.
And by whose power evermore
Your will is spurred!

A fount of hope with silvery chime
That ever springs
Within you and a song sublime
Forever sings.
And like it bids you ever climb
To higher things!
This is the inner world I see
With light agleam:
And yet a pawn of destiny
I almost seem.
What means the impulse unto me?
I only dream.
About the world men madly run
By greed made blind.
There is so much that might be done
For humankind;
So much, O God, that I for one
My part would find.
This word from somewhere comes to me:
'Rail not at fate,
Those who obtain self-mastery
Alone are great;
For they shall master destiny.
Arrive and wait."

-Denver News.