To a Hero
We may not know how fared your soul before
Occasion came to try it by this test.
Perchance, it used on lofty wings to soar;
Again, it may have dwelt in lowly nest.
We do not know if bygone knightly strain
Impelled you then, or blood of humble clod
Defied the dread adventure to attain
The cross of honor or the peace of God.
We see but this, that when the moment came
You raised on high, then drained, the solemn cup—
The grail of death; that, touched by valor’s flame,
The kindled spirit burned the body up.