THAT WHICH MEN HAIL AS KING

WOULD I might rouse the Cæsar in you all,

(That which men hail as king, and bow them down)

Till you are crowned, or you refuse the crown.

Would I might wake the valor and the pride,

The eagle soul with which he soared and died,

Entering grandly then the fearful grave.

God help us build the world, like master-men,

God help us to be brave.