SPIRIT, that lookest from the starry fold
Of truth's white flock, next to thy Milton there
Accept my reverance, though feebly told;
And oh, my heart, from thy example rare,
Henceforth its being for worhtiest ends would bear!
Thy thoughts and deeds were towering all and bold,
And like the steadfast columns that uphold
Some awful temple, to thy duty were!
How much thy story has enlarged my ken
Of human greatness! Of mere heroes I
With indignation ever read—but when
Of Thee, as lifted into Virtue's sky,
I feel how nobly all may live and die,
And glory in my brotherhood with men.