“Halt! Who goes there?” “A Friend.”
“The countersign?” my spent Heart cried,
And forward-peering stood.
A Voice as strange as sweet replied:
“The word is BROTHERHOOD.”
FAILURE TRIUMPHANT
How many a captain wave, since sea began,
Has lordly led the charge against the shore,
Whose crest a jewelled plume of rainbow bore,
As iris Hope arches the march of Man: