LIKE crown'd athlete that in a race has run, And points his finger at those left behind, And follows on his way as now inclin'd, With song and laughter in the glowing sun; And joys at that which he hath joyous done, And, like a child, will wanton with the wind, And pluck the flowers his radiant brows to bind -- Re-crown himself as conscious he hath won; And still regardless of his fellow-men He follows on his road intent and fain To please himself, and caring not to gain The world's applause which he might seek in vain: A soldier, yet would, careless, sport and play And leave the reckoning for a distant day. |