Spirit, that lookest from the starry fold <br /> Of truth’s white flock, next to thy Milton there <br />Accept my reverence though but feebly told. <br /> And oh! My heart from thy example rare <br /> Henceforth its being for worthiest ends would bear. <br />Thy deeds, though plain, were towering all and bold, <br />And like the stedfast columns that uphold <br /> Some awful temple, to thy duty were. <br />How much thy story has enlarged my ken <br /> Of real greatness! Of mere conquerors I <br />Read but with anger, or with shame; but when <br /> Of thee, uplifted into virtue’s sky, <br />I glory in my brotherhood with men, <br /> And feel how nobly all may live and die. <br /> <br /><br /><br />Charles Harpur<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/andrew-marvell/
