The cries of victory, and feels his heart

[Pg 34]

Surge with his country's triumph-hour, I could

Hope bravely on, and feel that God was good.

I could take up my thread of life again

And weave my pattern though the colors were

Faded forever. Though I might not dare

Dream often of thee, I should know that when

Death came to thee upon thy lips my name

Lingered, and lingers ever without blame.

Aye, lingers ever. Though we may not know

Much that our spirits crave, yet is it given

To us to feel that in the waiting Heaven

Great souls are greater, and if God bestow

A mighty love He will not let it die

Through the vast ages of eternity.

[Pg 35]

But if some day the bitter knowledge swept

Down on my life,—bearing my treasured freight

To founder on the shoals of scorn,—what Fate

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