john3859 |
Wysłany: Sob 11:21, 19 Lut 2011 Temat postu: One stoutly shod paces a velvet sward |
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ch souls sublime
Will never want for blessed joy in work
60
Working for Duty which can never die.
Men may seem playthings of ironic fate:
One stoutly shod paces a velvet sward;
And one is forced with naked feet to climb
Sharp slaty ways alive with scorpions
While wolfish hunger strains to catch his throat;
One lingers o'er his purple draught and laughs
One shuddering tastes his bitter cup and groans;
But there is hope for all. Though not for all
To sail through sunny ripples to the end
Chatting of shipwrecks as pathetic tales;
All are not born to nurse the dainty pangs
That herald love's completionand behold
Their darlings flourish in the tempered air
Of comfort till themselves become the springs
Of a yet milder race: all are not born
To touch majestic eminence and shine
Directing spirits in their nations' sight
And radiate unformed posterity:
But through transcendent mercy all are born
To enter on a nobler heritage
Than theseif each but wills to choose aright
In serving Dutyman's prerogative:
Which is far pleasanter than paths of flowers
Than warmest clustering of household joys
And prouder than the proudest shouts of fame
That follow action not in conscience wrought.
Fair Dutymost unlike the blight of de jordan for women |
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