True, we must tame our rebel will:
True, we must bow to Natures law:
Must bear in silence many an ill;
Must learn to wait, renounce, withdraw.
Yet now, when boldest wills give place,
When Fate and Circumstance are strong,
And in their rush the human race
Are swept, like huddling sheep, along;
Those sterner spirits let me prize,
Who, though the tendence of the whole
They less than us might recognize,
Kept, more than us, their strength of soul.
Yes, be the second Cato praisd!
Not that he took the course to die
But that, when gainst himself he raisd
His arm, he raisd it dauntlessly.
And, Byron! let us dare admire,
If not thy fierce and turbid song,
Yet that, in anguish, doubt, desire,
Thy fiery courage still was strong.
The sun that on thy tossing pain
Did with such cold derision shine.
He crushd thee not with his disdain
He had his glow, and thou hadst thine.
Our bane, disguise it as we may,
Is weakness, is a faltering course.
Oh that past times could give our day,
Joind to its clearness, of their force!
Courage
Matthew Arnold
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