He was a soldier to his last-drawn breath -- No uniform was his, nor keen-edged blade To bow his enemies in dust and death -- Far nobler, sterner was the fight he made; The torch of Truth was lighted by his pen; He added words, more words -- the flames leaped higher; He burned his peace to right a wrong for men, And, last, he laid himself upon the fire. The lord looked down and said, "Thy work is done; Thou art my faithful servant and thrice blest; They will go on with this thou hast begun -- Come unto Me and I will give thee rest." -- The wash of years can not efface his name -- It lights the world with Truth's undying flame. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER by WALLACE RICE THE MEETING by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TO WALTER LIONEL DE ROTHSCHILD ON HIS BAR-MITZVAH by LOUIS BARNETT ABRAHAMS AN OLD DREAM by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE EPITAPH ON MY FATHER by ROBERT BURNS ELEGY ON NEWSTEAD ABBEY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |