And laugh to scorn God’s mastery!
Thus from their watery grave he lifts his voice;
“None tempt my power by craft malign.
Lo! all shall cleave unto the common end,
And none shall stand but I, divine!”
INSPIRATION
Proud child of fortune, smile on thy better hope!
Let not thine arm swerve from thy great desire!
Stand not abashed, nor fear the tow’ring steep
Which thou wouldst climb, but bend thy will—