Page:Poems by Robert Louis Stevenson, Hitherto unpublished, 1921.djvu/84

 As the long line of fluttering banners threads

The many-coloured crowd;

That sense of progress won with ease,

Of unconstrained advance in both,

Of the full circle finished—such as trees

Feel in their own free growth.

So shall thy life to plains below,

O not unworthy of the crown!

Equal and pure, by lives yet purer, flow

Companionably down. [ 74 ]