 | Poems |  |
117
DEFEAT.
'Tis bitter to know we are not the best
In the earnest strife for an honoured name;
That a lower heart and a colder breast
Hath more of the books than ourselves may claim.
In the earnest strife for an honoured name;
That a lower heart and a colder breast
Hath more of the books than ourselves may claim.
For self-contempt is stronger than scorn,
It tortures the spirit most wrathfully;
And the careless smile on the thin lips worn
Is to hide the heart in its agony.
It tortures the spirit most wrathfully;
And the careless smile on the thin lips worn
Is to hide the heart in its agony.
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