I like the man who faces what he must, With step triumphant and a heart of cheer; Who fights the daily battle without fear; Sees his hopes fail, yet keeps unfaltering trust That God is God; that somehow, true and just, His plans work out for mortals; not a tear Is shed when fortune, which the world holds dear, Falls from his grasp: better, with love, a crust Than living in dishonor: envies not, Nor loses faith in man; but does his best, Nor ever murmurs at his humbler lot, But, with a smile and words of hope, gives zest To every toiler: he alone is great Who by a life heroic conquers fate. --Sarah Knowles Bolton. DEFEATED YET TRIUMPHANT They never fail who die In a great cause. The block may soak their gore; Their heads may sodden in the sun; their limbs Be strung to city gates and castle walls; But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years Elapse and others share as dark a doom, They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts Which overpower all others and conduct The world, at last, to freedom. --George Gordon Byron. A HERO GONE He has done the work of a true man-- Crown him, honor him, love him; Weep over him, tears of woman, Stoop, manliest brows, above him! For the warmest of hearts is frozen; The freest of hands is still; And the gap in our picked and chosen The long years may not fill. No duty could overtask him, No need his will outrun: Or ever our lips could ask him, His hands the work had done. He forgot his own life for others, Himself to his neighbor lending. Found the Lord in his suffering brothers, And not in the clouds descending. And he saw, ere his eye was darkened, The sheaves of the harvest-bringing; And knew, while his ear yet hearkened, The voice of the reapers singing. Never rode to the wrong's redressing A worthier paladin. He has heard the Master's blessing, "Good and faithful, enter in!" --John Greenleaf Whittier. THE CHARGE They outtalked thee, hissed thee, tore thee? Better men fared thus before thee; Fired their ringing shot and pass'd, Hotly charged--and sank at last. Charge once more, then, and be dumb! Let the victors, when they come, When the forts of folly fall, Find thy body by the wall! --Matthew Arnold. THE REFORMER