NOT as that other man who, slow to see, And blind to all the human heart holds hid, Had crushed a thousand souls complacently, Making it all a lifetime's work to rid Youth of its best and rarest, and had bid Nothing be born; but strove perpetually To kill, had killed, and hugged his victory ... Master and Friend, not as that man you did! At Youth's white altars it was yours to place The splendid sacrifice and lift the pray'r: Surely the High Gods turned a gracious face, Heard, and were glad to see you standing there ... For you that served had Service: in their ruth, They set @3your@1 altar in the heart of Youth! |