There
are songs enough for the hero
Who dwells on the heights of fame;
I sing
of the disappointed —
For those who have missed their aim. I
sing with a tearful cadence
For one who stands in the dark,
And knows that
his last, best arrow
Has bounded back from the mark. I
sing for the breathless runner,
The eager, anxious soul,
Who falls with
his strength exhausted.
Almost in sight of the goal; For
the hearts that break in silence,
With a sorrow all unknown,
For those who
need companions,
Yet walk their ways alone. There
are songs enough for the lovers
Who share love's tender pain,
I sing for
the one whose passion
Is given all in vain. For
those whose spirit comrades
Have missed them on their way,
I sing, with
a heart o'erflowing,
This minor strain today. And
I know the Solar system
Must somewhere keep in space
A prize for that spent
runner
Who barely lost the race. For
the plan would be imperfect
Unless it held some sphere
That paid for the
toil and talent
And love that are wasted here.
Ella
Wheeler Wilcox (1850 – 1919)
EllaWheelerWilcox.wwwhubs.com
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