It is not in the glare of glory <br /> When the crowds are at your feet, <br /> Or the city's bells are pealing <br /> As you mount the victor's seat. <br /> <br /> All that is but a passing show; <br /> A fleeting flash of light; <br /> A rain-dropp glistening in the sun, <br /> A shooting star at night. <br /> <br /> True greatness lies in what's not seen, <br /> And all that no-one knows; <br /> The long, dark years of ceaseless toil, <br /> The pain that never shows. <br /> The loneliness and misery, <br /> The heartaches and the fears, <br /> The waiting and the trait'rous doubts, <br /> The constant wearing cares: <br /> The agony of hoping <br /> For a dawn that never comes, <br /> And the mocking face of failure, <br /> And rejection's down-turned thumbs. <br /> <br /> There reigns the greatest glory, <br /> Though roses are not flung: <br /> In valleys where the sun ne'er shines <br /> And victories are not sung.<br /><br />Thurstan Bassett<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/true-greatness-2/
