knows to-day, though manhood stand achieved,
  His cradle-rockers made a rustling sweet;
That king reigns longest which did lose his crown,
Stars that by poets shine are stars gone down.

Still drawn obedient to an unseen hand,
  From purer heights comes down the yearning west,
Like to that eagle in the morning land,
  That swooping on her predatory quest,
Did from the altar steal a smouldering brand,
  The which she bearing home it burned her nest,
And her wide pinions of their plumes bereaven.
Spoiled for glad spiring up the steeps of heaven.

I say the gods live, and that reign abhor,
  And will the nations it should dawn? Will they
Who ride upon the perilous edge of war?
  Will such as delve for gold in this our day?
Neither the world will, nor the age will, nor
  The soul—and what, it cometh now? Nay, nay,
The weighty sphere, unready for release,
Rolls far in front of that o'ermastering peace.

Wait and desire it; life waits not, free there
  To good, to evil, thy right perilous—
All shall be fair, and yet it is not fair.
  I thank my God He takes th'advantage thus;
He doth not greatly hide, but still declare
  Which side He is on and which He loves, to us,
While life impartial aid to both doth lend,
And heed not which the choice nor what the end.

Among the few upright, O to be found,
  And ever search the nobler path, my son,
Nor say 'tis sweet to find me common ground
  Too high, too good, shall leave the hours alone—
Nay, though but one stood on the height renowned,
  Deny not hope or will, to be that one.
Is it the many fall'n shall lift the land,
The race, the age