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