Duty Poem by Cicely Fox Smith

Thorny the ways that lead to Duty's shrine,
Thro' grim ravines, o'er iron crags they pass,
And sandy waste with never a blade of grass,
And densest forests where no sun can shine.
But he who lays unmurmuring at her feet
All earthly joys that make life sweet to live,
And says: 'I give thee all I have to give,'
Shall find the memory of good deeds more sweet
Than years of useless pleasure; and for him
Shall those stern eyes with sudden love grow dim,
And she shall stoop, all mercy, from her throne,
And clasp him in her arms, and say: 'Well done!'