God sent us here to make mistakes.
    To strive, to fail, to re-begin.
    To taste the tempting fruit of sin,
And find what bitter food it makes.

To miss the path, to go astray,
    To wander blindly in the night.
    But searching, praying for the light,
Until at last we find the way.

And looking back along the past
    We know we needed all the strain
    Of fear and doubt and strife and pain
To make us value peace, at last.

Who fails, finds later triumph sweet.
    Who stumbles once, walks then with care,
    And knows the place to cry "Beware"
To other unaccustomed feet.

Through strife the slumbering soul awakes,
    We learn on errors troubled route
    The truths we could not prize without
The sorrow of our sad mistakes.

Poems of sentiment by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Chicago, IL : W. B. Conkey Company, c1906.

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