CONQUEROR

THE voice of Duty, low, but clarion clear,

Found her, safe seated in the golden haze

Of youth and ease, living luxurious days.

She roused to listen; her enchanted ear

Heard nevermore the music of the earth —

The dancing measure, or the reveler’ s call,

Or flute note of Apollo, nor the fall

Of Orphic melodies. As nothing worth

She counted them; in vain her ear to please

They rang their varied changes, urged and wooed,

Following swift Duty, leader to all good,

She went thenceforward;— so she conquered Ease.

Then fell her tender feet on harder road,

With stones beset and briers and many a thorn;

And there, her woman’ s strength all overborne,

She sank at length, fainting beneath her load.

And time went by, while helpless still she lay,

Shackled by weakness, vexed with hopes and fears,

Watching the long and tantalizing years

Built from the salt sands of her every day;

But still she bravely smiled through loss and gain;

Through the slow ebb of cheer and fortune’ s frown,

Her quenchless soul no chilling waves could drown,

No fires exhaust;— and so she conquered Pain.

And, last, the dim, mysterious shape drew near,

Whom men name “Death,” with pale, averted eyes;

( But whom the Heavenly ones call otherwise! )

She met his hovering presence without fear.

Long time they strove; and as the Patriarch cried,

“Except thou bless, I will not let thee go”!

So she; until at dawn the vanquished foe

Utterly blessed, and left her satisfied.

Oh, sweet to her the first, long, rapturous breath

Of Heaven, after life’ s pent and prisoning air;

Freedom unstinted, power to will and dare

The victory won from Life and over Death.