Forward

Let me look always forward. Never back. Was I not formed for progress? Otherwise With onward pointing feet and searching eyes Would God have set me squarely on the track Up which we all must labour with life's pack? Yonder the goal of all this travel lies. What matters it, if yesterday the skies With light were golden, or with clouds were black? I would not lose to-morrow's glow of dawn By peering backward after sun's long set. New hope is fairer than an old regret; Let me pursue my journey and press on- Nor tearful eyed, stand ever in one spot, A briny statue like the wife of Lot.