Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/151

 "Therefore his life was failure!" say Those who but count the pay. Fools even thus: from the world's poor renown God ever saveth some for His own hand to crown.

Pringle, we love thy hate of wrong, Thy simple, heart-felt song! A knightly soul, unbought, and unafraid; This country oweth much to thy two-edged blade:

And when the crowds of meanly great And sordidly elate Are dust long since forgotten, Afric's page Will boast thy name as now—a light from age to age. Rev. A. Vine Hall.