There was strength in him and the weak won freely from it, br There was an infinite pity, and hard hearts grew soft thereby, br There was truth so unshrinking and starry-shining, br Men read clear by its light and learned to scorn a lie. br br His were songs so full of a wholesome laughter br Those whose courage was ashen found it once more aflame, br His was a child-like faith and wandering feet were guided, br His was a hope so joyous despair was put to shame. br br His was the delicate insight and his the poignant vision br Whereby the world might learn what wine-lipped roses know, br What a drift of rain might lisp on a gray sea-dawning, br Or a pale spring of the woodland babble low.