There was strength in him and the weak won freely from it,
There was an infinite pity, and hard hearts grew soft thereby,
There was truth so unshrinking and starry-shining,
Men read clear by its light and learned to scorn a lie. 

His were songs so full of a wholesome laughter
Those whose courage was ashen found it once more aflame,
His was a child-like faith and wandering feet were guided,
His was a hope so joyous despair was put to shame. 

His was the delicate insight and his the poignant vision
Whereby the world might learn what wine-lipped roses know,
What a drift of rain might lisp on a gray sea-dawning,
Or a pale spring of the woodland babble low. 

He builded a castle of dream and a palace of rainbow fancy,
And the starved souls of his fellows lived in them and grew glad;­
And yet­there were those who mocked the gifts of his generous giving,
And some­but he smiled and forgave them­who deemed him wholly mad!