Classic Poem

I.

H E has failed, you say:
From the rise to the set of day
His name is not heard:
He has abandoned his lofty schemes,
He is lost in idle dreams,
The event has not occurred,
His star is not seen in the sky,
There is nothing left him save to die.

II.

Poor fool! in your little world
The all is not done;
Much is finished, much begun
Beyond the circlet of your life.
Since when has the stream been hurled
Of the universal strife
Over your mountain wall
To foam and appall,
Where the peaceful denizens of your vale
Meet each the other with simple all hail?

III.

Nay, if, in all the spheres
That greet your eyes and ears,
No banner uprears
The emblazonment of his name,
How dare you call his labor halt and lame?
He thinks, he lives, he is,
He fulfils the hidden Destinies,
He has chosen the silent part
Held close to Nature's heart,
He breathes the breath of her being,
He sees in the sight of her seeing,
He heeds not the loud applause,
He needs not a herald of his cause.
Prate of your slender successes,
Third your conventional wildernesses;
He has passed the farthest portal,
He has dropped the vesture mortal,
He has reached the end
Where Man and Life blend,
The ultimate Height,
Bathed in the World-soul for air and for light.