Truth forever on the scaffold, wrong forever on the throne,
Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown,
Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above His own.
We see dimly in the present what is small and what is great;
Slow of faith, how weak an arm may turn the iron helm of fate!
But the soul is still oracular; amid the market's din,
List the ominous stern whisper from the delphic cave within,
"They enslave their children's children who make compromise with sin."
Then to side with truth is noble when we share her wretched crust,
Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 'tis prosperous to be just;