 | Claribel and Other Poems |  |
It is a fable of the meed of Truth:
Most knight-like Truth, that, scorning sloth or fear,
Hastens to meet the Evils of the time;
And, be he ne'er so poorly companied,
Dares all their force, copes with their fiercest tides,
Defies disaster and despair itself,
And leaves upon the sorriest place of death—
Where hopes are scatter'd like autumnal wrecks—
A memory that shall live and bring his name
In fire to the hearts of new endeavourers,—
Leading them from the gloomiest depth of care,
Even when their need shall be most desperate,
With power as if his Angel had return'd
To avenge the past defeat with victory.
Most knight-like Truth, that, scorning sloth or fear,
Hastens to meet the Evils of the time;
And, be he ne'er so poorly companied,
Dares all their force, copes with their fiercest tides,
Defies disaster and despair itself,
And leaves upon the sorriest place of death—
Where hopes are scatter'd like autumnal wrecks—
A memory that shall live and bring his name
In fire to the hearts of new endeavourers,—
Leading them from the gloomiest depth of care,
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With power as if his Angel had return'd
To avenge the past defeat with victory.
True-soul'd and valiant! Arthur! come again.
Is not our need enough?
Is not our need enough?
What voice replies?
| Claribel and Other Poems | |