THE word is writ that he who runs may read. What is the passing breath of earthly fame? But to snatch glory from the hands of blame -- That is to be, to live, to strive indeed. A poor Virginia cabin gave the seed, And from its dark and lowly door there came A peer of princes in the world's acclaim, A master spirit for the nation's need. Strong, silent, purposeful beyond his kind, The mark of rugged force on brow and lip, Straight on he goes, nor turns to look behind Where hot the hounds come baying at his hip; With one idea foremost in his mind, Like the keen prow of some on-forging ship. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ANGEL, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE DEJECTION: AN ODE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE FRAGMENT 113 by HILDA DOOLITTLE THE LOST PLEIAD by WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS THE NEW YEAR by ALFRED TENNYSON ON AN INFANT UNBORN, AND THE MOTHER DYING IN TRAVAIL by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) PARLEYINGS WITH CERTAIN PEOPLE OF IMPORTANCE: GERARD DE LAIRESSE by ROBERT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: AT HOME DURING THE BALL by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |