NOT only master of his art was he, But master of his spirit -- winged indeed For lordliest height, yet poised for lowliest need Of those, alas! upheld less buoyantly. He gloried even in adversity, And won his country's plaudits, and the meed Of Old World praise, as one loath to succeed While others were denied like victory. Though passed, I count him still my master-friend, Invincible as through his mortal fight, -- The laughing light of faith still in his eye As, at his wintry tent, pitched at the end Of life, he gaily called to me "Good night, Old friend, good night -- for there is no good-by." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LAW OF THE YUKON by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE THE SWAN; TO VICTOR HUGO by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE HAWAIIAN FLIGHT SQUADRON by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN GOD AND HIS MARTYRS by CHAIM NACHMAN BIALIK TWO SKETCHES: 2. A.B. by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |