WHEN I think sometimes of what wondrous fame Hath fallen upon men of noisy deeds, Of laurel flung for every drop that bleeds, And grateful nations busy with a name, I turn to those who, deaf to praise or blame, Labor in silence for their brothers' needs, Sowing in darkness those immortal seeds One day to blossom in men's souls like flame. Ah, these unrecognized, unhailed, denied, These heroes of what land or age they be, Who mutely anguish at the task undone, These wonderful white Christs, not crucified On a high place for all the world to see, -- But striving on, unnoted and alone! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARJORIE'S WOOING by EMMA LAZARUS THE STORMING OF STONY POINT [JULY 16, 1779] by ARTHUR GUITERMAN THE GARDEN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON SONG, WRITTEN AT SEA, IN THE FIRST DUTCH WAR, 1665 ... by CHARLES SACKVILLE (1637-1706) LILIES: 5. ETERNAL MURMURINGS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |