his quiescence, Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire. Blot out his name, then, - record one lost soul more, One task more declined, one more foot-path untrod, One more triumph for devils, and sorrow for angels, One wrong more to man, one more insult to God! Life's night begins; let him never come back to us! There would be doubt, hesitation, and pain, Forced praise on our part, — the glimmer of twilight, Never glad confident morning again! Best fight on well, for we taught him,-strike gallantly, Aim at our heart ere we pierce through his own; Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us, Pardoned in Heaven, the first by the throne! ROBERT BROWNING. |