The Torch by Elizabeth R. Finley

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Oct 24, 1907

The Torch

By Elizabeth R. Finley

THE God of the Great Endeavor gave me a torch to bear. I lifted it high above me in the dark and murky air, And straightway, with loud hosannas, the crowd acclaimed its light, And followed me as I carried my torch through the starless night; And, mad with people's praises and drunken with vanity, I forgot 'twas the torch that drew them, and fancied they followed me. But slowly my arm grew weary upholding the shining load, And my tired feet went stumbling over the hilly road, And I fell with the torch beneath me. In a moment the flame was out! Then, lo! from the throng a stripling sprang forth with a mighty shout, Caught up the torch as it smoldered, and lifted it high again, 'Till, fanned by the winds of heaven, it fired the souls of men! And, as I lay in darkness, the feet of the trampling crowd Passed over and far beyond me, its paeans proclaimed aloud, While I learned, in the deepening shadows, this glorious verity: 'Tis the torch that the people follow, whoever the bearer be. — Elizabeth R. Finley.