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Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс) Be Not Content Be not content, contentment means inaction, The growing soul aches on its upward quest; Satiety is twin to satisfaction-- All great achievements spring from life's unrest. The tiny roots, deep in the dark mould hiding, Would never bless the earth with leaf and flower Were not an inborn restlessness abiding In seed and germ, to stir them with its power. Were man contented with his lot forever, He had not sought strange seas with sails unfurled, And the vast wonder of our shores had never Dawned on the gaze of an admiring world. Prize what is yours, but be not quite contented, There is a healthful restlessness of soul By which a mighty purpose is augmented In urging men to reach a higher goal. So when the restless impulse rises, driving Your calm content before it, do not grieve; It is the upward reaching of the spirit Of the God in you to achieve, achieve. Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
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