Not for himself — he lives to God alone —
Do we lament that he, the good great man,
Should live unguerdoned and should die unknown:
Not for his sake we mourn, but for our own.
"A little while 'tis with you; while ye can,
Walk in the light!" So spake the living Way:
But we have chosen darkness; day by day
The light was with us, yet we dared to scorn
The beams of his pure glory; now his ray
Faints in the westward, therefore do we mourn.
Oh worse than famine, worse than sword, or pest,
When prophets cry in vain to the dull ear
Of dying lands, that murmur "Peace," and jest,
And lightly mock the visions of the seer.
