Unto the patriot's heart
The silent summons comes;
Not braver he who does his part
To the sound of beating drums.
And thou who gavest youth,
And life, and all most dear;
Sweet soul, impassionate of truth,
White on thy murdered bier!—
Thy deed, thy date, thy name
Are wreathed with deathless flowers.
Thy fate shall be the guiding flame
That lights to nobler hours.
WASHINGTON AT TRENTON
THE BATTLE MONUMENT, OCTOBER 19, 1893
Since ancient Time began,
Ever on some great soul God laid an infinite burden—
The weight of all this world, the hopes of man.
Conflict and pain, and fame immortal are his guerdon!
And this the unfaltering token
Of him, the Deliverer—what tho' tempests beat,
Tho' all else fail, tho' bravest ranks be broken,
He stands unscared, alone, nor ever knows defeat.
Such was that man of men;
And if are praised all virtues, every fame
Most noble, highest, purest—then, ah! then,
Upleaps in every heart the name none needs to name.
Ye who defeated, 'whelmed,
