V
Each bore his burden: but he all burdens bore,
Whose sad heart folded all the sufferers in;
While with a master’s steady hand he played,
Mournful but undismayed,
That giant game where it was pain to win.
Ah, pain to win, but double death to lose!
He saw the end, he knew the thing at stake
Was Manhood’s captain-jewel: he could not choose
But play the grim game out, though that great heart should break.
He smiled, as he had need
To keep him sane:
Sad Lincoln laughed! on mountain-side or plain
Not any soldier did a braver deed.