Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 2 of 2.djvu/138

 "To pass, when Life her light withdraws, Not void of righteous self-applause, Nor in a merely selfish cause—

"In some good cause, not in mine own, To perish, wept for, honour'd, known, And like a warrior overthrown;

"Whose eyes are dim with glorious tears, When, soil'd with noble dust, he hears His country's war-song thrill his ears:

"Then dying of a mortal stroke, What time the foeman's line is broke, And all the war is roll'd in smoke."

"Yea!" said the voice, "thy dream was good, While thou abodest in the bud. It was the stirring of the blood.