There was strength in him and the weak won freely from it, There was an infinite pity, and hard hearts grew soft thereby,
There was truth so unshrinking and starry-shining, Men read clear by its light and learned to scorn a lie.
His were songs so full of a wholesome laughter Those whose courage was ashen found it once more aflame,
His was a child-like faith and wandering feet were guided, His was a hope so joyous despair was put to shame.
His was the delicate insight and his the poignant vision Whereby the world might learn what wine-lipped roses know,
What a drift of rain might lisp on a gray sea-dawning, Or a pale spring of the woodland babble low.
He builded a castle of dream and a palace of rainbow fancy, And the starved souls of his fellows lived in them and grew glad;And yetthere were those who mocked the gifts of his generous giving, And somebut he smiled and forgave themwho deemed him wholly mad!
