Hope and Effort by William Francis Barnard

Hope is of the valley; effort stands
Upon the mountain-top, facing the sun.
Hope dreams of dreams made true, and great deeds done;
Effort goes forth with toiling feet and hands
To attain the far off sky-touched table lands
Of great desire; and till the end is won
Looks not below, where the long strife, begun
In pleasant fields, met torrents, rocks, and sands.

Hope; but when hope bids look within her glass,
And shows the wondrous things which may befall,
Wait not for destiny, wait not at all,
Nor sink in hesitation's deep morass:
Sound thou to all thy powers a trumpet call,
And staff in hand strive up the mountain pass.