With each strong thought, with every earnest longing <br /> For aught thou deemest needful to thy soul, <br />Invisible vast forces are set thronging <br /> Between thee and that goal. <br /> <br />‘Tis only when some hidden weakness alters <br /> And changes thy desire, or makes it less, <br />That this mysterious army ever falters <br /> Or stops short of success. <br /> <br />Thought is a magnet; and the longed-for pleasure <br /> Or boon, or aim, or object, is the steel; <br />And is attainment hangs but on the measure <br /> Of what thy soul can feel.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thought-magnets/
