The Strong

Dost deem him weak that owns his strength is tried?

Nay, we may safely lean on him that grieves:

The pine has immemorially sighed,

The enduring poplar's are the trembling leaves.

To feel, and bow the head, is not to fear;

To cheat with jest — that is the coward's art:

Beware the laugh that battles back the tear;

He 's false to all that 's traitor to his heart.

He of great deeds does grope amid the throng

Like him whose steps toward Dagon's temple bore;

There 's ever something sad about the strong —

A look, a moan, like that on ocean's shore.