Anguish and triumph are met at strife,
Rending the cords of her frail young life;
And she sinks at last on her warrior’s bier,
Lifting her voice, as if death might hear.
“I have won thy fame from the breath of wrong,
My soul hath risen for thy glory strong!
Now call me hence, by thy side to be,
The world thou leav’st has no place for me.
The light goes with thee, the joy, the worth—
Faithful and tender! Oh! call me forth!