Are not all the needs that beckon,
And the duties that we reckon
Till our hands are weary, and our hearts are sad,
Roughened stairs for our surmounting,
Looming up beyond our counting,
Like the ladder in the vision Jacob had?
And the joys our lives that brighten,
And the loves our loads that lighten,
And the sweet relationships so dear,
Are they not the stairways golden,—
Like the wondrous ladder olden,—
Over which the footfalls of God's love we hear?