Many loved Truth, and lavished life’s best oil
Amid the dusk of books to find her.
But these our brothers fought for her,
At life’s dear peril wrought for her,
So loved her that they died for her,
Tasting the raptured fleetness Of her divine completeness:
Their higher instinct knew
Those love her best who to themselves are true,
And what they dare to dream of dare to do.
They followed her and found her Where all may hope to find—