The arid loneliness of life he knew,
The doubtful darkness of the starless night,
And fear lest he should never see the sight
Of dawn and God the Father breaking through.
Brave offspring of a disenchanted age
He lived as though illusion were not dead;
His was the pain of faiths discredited
Which with new knowledge civil battles wage.
In all his deeds for righteous quests he stood
And we, who watched his face and heard his voice,