A CONQUERING COWARD
Ay, that’s what it came to.—The moment I turn’d to be true to my trust.
Terror left me. The moment I said in my soul, “It’s my duty: I must,”
[1]I could! Ay, the moment I caught with both hands at the thing that was Right,
I had caught on to Strength, I was coupled with measureless Might.
And, sole but sufficient, conscious of power, tense, not to be turn’d,
Steel, stone, yet with that in my heart which immortally sparkled and burn’d,
A conquering coward, assured and triumphant. supreme amid strife—
I shall not better that ride all the days of my life!
*******
..A whiff, of burnt flesh! then, a flash! and Hullo! we were so close upon them,
An instant, another two bounds, must have landed us bodily on them.
It was too much for Rangi—she started, cross’d feet, and came down....Up again—
Off! like a shot....But I lay there, alone with the slain....
Ay, his burnt beard was gritting my teeth; she had flung me off full on his breast—
Stark and still, poor old chap, where no woman or little ones ever would rest....
- ↑ c.f. Emerson:
“So nigh is glory to the dust,
So close is God to man,
When Duty whispers low ‘You rust,’
The youth replies: ‘I can.’”
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