Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/191

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FAILURE AND SUCCESS
163

Duty—that passion of the soul which from the sod
Alone lifts man to God.


XII

So nobly past this unknown hero of the war;
And heroes, near and far,
Sleep now in graves like his unfamed in song or story—
But theirs is more than glory!


TO THE SPIRIT OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN

(REUNION AT GETTYSBURG TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AFTER THE BATTLE)

Shade of our greatest, O look down to-day!
Here the long, dread midsummer battle roared,
And brother in brother plunged the accursèd sword;—
Here foe meets foe once more in proud array,
Yet not as once to harry and to slay,
But to strike hands, and with sublime accord
Weep tears heroic for the souls that soared
Quick from earth's carnage to the starry way.
Each fought for what he deemed the people's good,
And proved his bravery by his offered life,
And sealed his honor with his outpoured blood;
But the Eternal did direct the strife,
And on this sacred field one patriot host
Now calls thee father—dear, majestic ghost!


FAILURE AND SUCCESS

(G. C., 1888)

He fails who climbs to power and place
Up the pathway of disgrace.
He fails not who makes truth his cause,

Nor bends to win the crowd's applause.