ODE TO MAZZINI
XVI
And men despond around thee; and thy name
The tyrant smiles at, and his priests look pale;
And weariness of empty-throated fame,
And men who live and fear all things but shame,
Comes on thee; and the weight of aimless years
Whose light is dim with tears:
And hope dies out like a forgotten tale.
O brother, crownèd among men—O chief
In glory as in grief!
O throned by sorrow over time and fate
And the blind strength of hate!
From soul to answering soul
The thunder-echoes roll,
And truth grows out of suffering still and great.
To have done well is victory,—to be true
Is truest guerdon, though blind hands undo
The work begun too late.
God gives to each man power by toil to earn
An undishonoured grave:
The praise that lives on every name in turn
He leaves the laurelled slave.
We die, but freedom dies not like the power
That changes with the many-sided hour.
Though trampled under the brute hoofs of crime,
And men despond around thee; and thy name
The tyrant smiles at, and his priests look pale;
And weariness of empty-throated fame,
And men who live and fear all things but shame,
Comes on thee; and the weight of aimless years
Whose light is dim with tears:
And hope dies out like a forgotten tale.
O brother, crownèd among men—O chief
In glory as in grief!
O throned by sorrow over time and fate
And the blind strength of hate!
From soul to answering soul
The thunder-echoes roll,
And truth grows out of suffering still and great.
To have done well is victory,—to be true
Is truest guerdon, though blind hands undo
The work begun too late.
God gives to each man power by toil to earn
An undishonoured grave:
The praise that lives on every name in turn
He leaves the laurelled slave.
We die, but freedom dies not like the power
That changes with the many-sided hour.
Though trampled under the brute hoofs of crime,
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