A gentle voice grows harsh and hoarse
That warns and threatens and commands
Beyond the measure of its force.

Oh sweet, beyond all speech, to feel
Within no answer to the drum,
Or echo to the bugle-peal,
That calls to duties which benumb
In service of the commonweal!

Oh sweet to feel, beyond all speech,
That most and best of human kind
Have leave to live beyond the reach
Of toil that tarnishes, and find
No tongue but Envy's to impeach!

Oh sweet, that most unnoticed deeds
Give play to fine, heroic blood!--
That hid from light, and shut from weeds,
The rose is fairer in its bud
Than in the blossom that succeeds!

He is the helpless slave who must;
And she enfranchised who may sit
Unblamed above the din and dust,
Where stronger hands and coarser wit
Strive equally for crown and crust.

So ran her thought, and broader yet,
Who scanned her own by Philip's pace;