Page:Poems, Volume 2, Coates, 1916.djvu/258

242 Who, for freedom, to the gods

Offered all they had;

Who in danger, Death defying,

Triumphed over Fate in dying,

For our gain—our gain!

Dæmons sentinel the field;

Venture thou not near,—

Neither seek those forms to view,

Nor those sounds to hear.

This enough for thee: they perish

Never!—whom the high gods cherish

One with life remain.