Classic Poem

Pity me not: I am not without joy.
Within the shadow of a grand Despair,
Proud thoughts abide; which with their stately strength
Maintain the Spirit in its resolute path.
Be sure of this: brave men do not resign
All Heaven with love. He who can walk alone
Unto his grave, and (conquering his own heart)
Force the black Future, till its seeming Void
Grows populous with shapes, and yields to him,
Its regions subject, is not without joy;
But, like some warrior, who, the day being won,
Strides on triumphant amidst heaps of slain;
All pain and wounds forgot.