When We tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new.
So let who will erect an altar shrine
This restless craving in the souls of men
Spurs them to climb, and seek the mountain view.
To meek-browed Constancy, and sing her praise.
Unto enlivening Change I shall build mine,
Who lends new zest, and interest to my days.
Ella Wehleer Wilcox
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