Equipped, who doubts, above Life’s common leave,
Where, privy to her council, mind and will
Bar lesser men, past plea of question, do fulfill
The searchless Fates—What did this man achieve
That Hope should stand deject, should at his parting grieve?
What bated sum of human ill
Files now, along with Wrong, its lessened bill?
What brutish yokes less hardened cleave?
How did he ease them—with what large conceive?
What forces muster ’gainst the Dark, but their array
Broke from the leadership of trusting Day,
Gave faction life, grew to command,
And, cozening, won him from the straighter way—
The same, in whose plain view yon heavens stand,
Rear wide this word, tho’ blurred with Dust,
“That truly great must first be just.”