“God sets some souls in shade, alone;
They have no daylight of their own—
Only in lives of happier ones
They see the shine of distant suns.
“God knows. Content thee with thy night.
Thy greater heaven hath grander light.
Today is close. The hours are small;
Thou sit’st afar, and hast them all.
“Lose the best joy—that doth but blind;
Reach forth a larger bliss to find.
Today is brief; the inclusive spheres
Rain raptures of a thousand years.”
It is quite time some strong words should be spoken for the people who fail. There are enough to sing the praises of those who succeed. When a man is valiant, and overcomes in the battle, and stands a victor at the close of the strife, there are enough to shout the huzzas and to twine the laurel for his brow. When a man prospers in business, rising to wealth and influence, living in splendour, there are enough to do homage to his achievements. When one has won honour in any calling, attaining eminence and distinction, as in art or in a profession, there is no lack of voices to speak commendation. Books are written, telling the stories of heroes who won great victories on land or sea. Poets weave their verses into garlands of honour for those who conquer in the world’s battles. We have many volumes filled with the records of men who became famous, and women who became famous, rising from obscurity to greatness.
All this is well. But who tells the story of those who fail? Who sings the praises of him who goes down in the fight? Who tells of the heroism of him who is defeated in the battle, and falls wounded and overwhelmed? When the struggle is over and the victors come out of the smoke and carnage in triumph, there is a jubilant shout to greet them; but who lifts up the cheer for the men who fell and died on the field? Yet were they any less brave than those who came unwounded from the strife? Did the honour of the victory belong any less to them than to those who lived to hear the shout of the conquest?
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