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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from New Poems by Robert Louis Stevenson: Go on from grace to grace.
IT'S FORTH ACROSS THE ROARING FOAM
IT'S forth across the roaring foam, and on towards the west,
It's many a lonely league from home, o'er many a mountain crest,
From where the dogs of Scotland call the sheep around the fold,
To where the flags are flying beside the Gates of Gold.
Where all the deep-sea galleons ride that come to bring the corn,
Where falls the fog at eventide and blows the breeze at morn;
It's there that I was sick and sad, alone and poor and cold,
In yon distressful city beside the Gates of Gold.
I slept as one that nothing knows; but far along my way,
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