A Child of the People :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Lord's elect, with gracious feet that glide
Down heaven's white stair of stars, and come and go
Soft as dove's wings, or feather-drift of snow,
Meet work for this man and for that provide:—
For him to tame the purple heart of pride
By wearing a world's crown, nor ever know;
This gives his life away for his life's foe;
This for the poor. Such grow next to God's side.

And they who fail,—who die with nothing won,—
Whose lives yield scantly for the pains they spend!—
These, whom the world deems profitless, undone,
So souls stand true, have honour in the end.
Failure is but the other face o' the sun,—
Just the success men cannot comprehend.

II.

Of climbing purpose, clogged with feet fall'n lame,
And singing soul sour-throated, God alone
Can gauge the greatness. Bruisèd spice storm-blown
Pleaseth Him more than all fair-weather flame
Of frankincense. He doth not praise or blame
Results, or blazoned moods the world is shown;
But by the inner spirit's undertone
Judgeth the act,—the arrow by the aim.

So I sing on, although my May-day rhyme
Noon-born, die ere the even: God from me
No thunder-throated battle-psalm sublime
Demandeth, but a song in my degree.
Discords! He hath not heard one any time;—
They are His concords in a minor key!

“Crown Failure here, the frequent feast-day leaves
No wreaths men's brows to bind!
We mark the first for honour; God perceives
The place of each behind.
See, too, for fairest deeds men's lavish praise,
Ere the dew dries, is spent!
He will not grudge us everlasting bays
To crown a crossed intent.”