And seem the thing I am not, I might live
Happier in this world’s love. But let that pass.
I will not bend my knee, or lose one spark
Of Heaven’s heritage—my manhood’s truth—
But trample on the vampires of the world,
Who fatten on the blood of noble things.
What though the strife’s unequal? Let me fall,
Strong in my ruined hopes; the shrine profaned
Within the inner temple, is to me
Dearer than all now opened to my soul;