NOT for the thought that burns on keen and clear, <br />Heat that the heat has turned from red to white, <br />The passion of the lone remembering night <br />One with the patience day must see and hear — <br />Not for the shafts the lying foemen fear, <br />Shot from the soul's intense self-centring light — <br />But for the heart of love divine and bright, <br />We praise you, worker, thinker, poet, seer! <br />Man of the People — faithful in all parts, <br />The veins' last drop, the brain's last flickering dole, <br />You on whose forehead beams the aureole <br />That hope and 'certain hope' alone imparts — <br />Us have you given your perfect heart and soul; <br />Wherefore receive as yours our souls and hearts.<br /><br />Francis William Lauderdale Adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-karl-marx/
