But still undying—still a conqueror—still
A thing that Death may wound but cannot quell.
In his warm blood a spirit still survives;
In his bright eye a soul is living yet;
In his undying heart, eternal life
Throbs fixedly. Oh strife most beautiful!
Thou crowned martyr! thou enduring Love!
How beautiful thou art!
Constantia L. Riddell.
Why should I a stranger be