Life of my better life! this day with thee
I stand on earthly life’s supremest tower;
Heavenward across the far infinity
With thee I gaze in awe, yet gaze in power.
Love first, then Fame, illumed that bygone night:
How little knew I then of God or man!
Now breaks the morn eternal, broad and bright;
My spirit, franchised, bursts its narrow span.
Sweet, we must suffer! Joys, thou said’st, like these
Make way for holy suffering. Let it come.
Shall that be suffering named which crowns and frees?
The happiest death man dies is martyrdom.
Never were bridal rites more deeply dear
Than when of old to bridegroom and to bride
That Pagan Empire cried, “False gods revere!”—
They turned; they kissed each other; and they died.