THAT WHICH MEN HAIL AS KING
Would I might rouse the Cæsar in you all,
(That which men hail as king, and bow them down)
Till you are crowned, or you refuse the crown.
Would I might wake the valor and the pride,
The eagle soul with which he soared and died,
Entering grandly then the fearful grave.
God help us build the world, like master-men,
God help us to be brave.