FAILURE.
Vicron from the fight disrobing,
Lover, now that heaven's attained—
Ere the shouts be lost in sobbing,
The clear heaven with storm-clouds stained—
Mind ye—'mid your golden sunset, Or triumphant trumpet's sound— Hearts as brave, yet broken in onset, Lovers, but with love uncrowned.
Heed not : pay no vain recital—
Tithes of pity, praise, or tears— Glorious in their unrequital, Richer for the world's arrears !
Though your fame wax old before ye, Though Love's leaf with frost be curled, Justice bares for these her glory, Veiled but from the vulgar world.
Where they strewed who reap but stubble, Silent and unseen She stands, With a look that makes more noble Than the kiss of sceptred hands.
And a crown she weaves for ever— Bloodless thorn and sweetened rue—
For each noble lost endeavour Of the souls that died to do.
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