 | The Cup of Quietness |  |
39
IN CANDORE DECUS
Disarmed, but undefeated, low he lies
Whose steadfast courage manfully upbore
Honour's derided standard, 'mid the roar
Of vulgar passions and vainglorious cries
Of self-styled patriots. Not for him will rise
The long-expected day which shall restore
Her soul to England. That dear hope no more
May cheer the sorrow in those wistful eyes.
Whose steadfast courage manfully upbore
Honour's derided standard, 'mid the roar
Of vulgar passions and vainglorious cries
Of self-styled patriots. Not for him will rise
The long-expected day which shall restore
Her soul to England. That dear hope no more
May cheer the sorrow in those wistful eyes.
Yet is the sword unbroken that he drew;
Though feebler arms must wield it, Heaven will bless
The wilder brain, the weaker heart of youth,
If only they who guard his cause indue
The panoply he wore of righteousness,
The stainless beauty of the soul of truth.
Though feebler arms must wield it, Heaven will bless
The wilder brain, the weaker heart of youth,
If only they who guard his cause indue
The panoply he wore of righteousness,
The stainless beauty of the soul of truth.
| The Cup of Quietness | |