“Yea, let all good things await Him who cares not to be great But as he saves or serves the state. Not once or twice in our rough island-story The path of duty was the way to glory. He that walks it, only thirsting For the right, and learns to deaden Love of self, before his journey closes, He shall find the stubborn thistle bursting Into glossy purples, which outredden All voluptuous garden-roses.”