He who possesses virtue at its best, Or greatness in the true sense of the word, Has one day started even with that herd Whose swift feet now speed, but at sin's behest. It is the same force in the human breast Which makes men gods or demons. If we gird Those strong emotions by which we are stirred With might of will and purpose, heights unguessed Shall dawn for us; or if we give them sway We can sink down and consort with the lost. All virtue is worth just the price it cost. Black sin is oft white truth, that missed its way And wandered off in paths not understood. Twin-born I hold great evil and great good. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUMMER (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONG, WRITTEN AT SEA, IN THE FIRST DUTCH WAR, 1665 ... by CHARLES SACKVILLE (1637-1706) IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 30 by ALFRED TENNYSON BLOOD ON THE WHEEL by ALEXANDER ANDERSON THE SONG OF HER by WILLIAM ROSE BENET RUE DU BOIS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN GRISELDA: CHAPTER 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |