Life well lost for justice and love acclaimed to the race.

Still with shifting and turning, with minds and the ways of swine,
Earth is girded by Cæsar's men, life a stag in a snare,--
Yet still--your banner burning first in the battle-line,
Aye, and the trumpets blowing for dawning, Aquilifer!


THE WOMAN

You could hurt and you could heal,
You could hide and still reveal,
You were lilies, lilies and steel.

You the near and you the far
Were as lamplight and a star.

I cannot tell them what you were;
Yet, Death, you have not all of her.

No, I, the passionate nondescript,
Have wine your lips have never sipped,

Have wine of her in my heart's blood
Whom I never understood.

You were tender and benign,
Trusting--and all fire divine
And a constellation's sign.