Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/To the Victor

From Wikisource
Jump to: navigation, search
For other versions of this work, see To the Victor.


YOU have outstripped me in the race,
Your brow shall wear the laurel's grace;
 But though on-speeding in your might
 You pass beyond my straining sight,
My spirit shall with yours keep pace!

For I have dreamed your dream divine,
For I have worshiped at the shrine
 Whose oracles your faith have moved,
 For I have loved what you have loved—
Your victory is also mine!

Shall the grave gods pronounce their choice
And I not lift in praise my voice?
 Or shall another win the goal
 Whose vision hath illumed my soul,
And I, though distant, not rejoice?

Ah, no! Your greater gifts prevail;
But though to reach your side I fail,
 Through you triumphant in defeat,
 Even in death I will repeat,—
Hail to the victor! Hail! . . .