NOT Kilimanjáro towering to the sun Could mate his grandeur as he stood, at morn — The last hope vanished, the last moment run — Facing his murderous foes with silent scorn Till his high soul was freed in Afric air! ... Then from the sorrowing world there burst acclaim For him, abandoned, yet above despair, For him who boldest paths of service trod, Forever in the shadow or the flame! And so he perished — he, a knight of God — Ah, deathless is the glory, is the shame! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FABRIC OF LIFE by KAY RYAN SELF-INTERROGATION by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE FLOOD OF YEARS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT ON THE PICTURE OF LUCRETIA STABBING HERSELF by PHILIP AYRES BLESS, DEAR SAVIOUR, THIS CHILD by THOMAS BECK THE LAKE by HELEN BIRCH-BARTLETT SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 7 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |