To have lived just like a man
And done what one man can,
Not basking like a dog in summer dust;
Nor like a butterfly
That flaunts and flutters by,
Till showers have dimmed its silver wings with rust.

To have lightened some stiff load
Of men upon the road—
May some remember I am flesh and blood!
To have dried some children’s tears,
And slain some women’s fears
That bid them crouch beneath a brooding flood.

To have known the throbbing stars,
And traced the ancient scars
That streams have ploughed upon the mountain side;
To have sung songs passing sweet,
And sung with lasting heat
As pure as that of stars that burn and bide.

To have said the simply true,
Although to preach the new
Might win me prizes and the world’s caress;
To have been misunderstood,
If so the common good
Might bear more harvest through my loneliness.

To have learnt that love is light
In rain and fog and night,
For eyes that sadly peer and feet that plod:
To have found all life a song
Of rapture calm and strong,
And found the music of the song was God.