Courage

THE dead are buried facing to the sun,
In foolish epitaphs their faith is told,
And yet they die without a victory won,
Leaving a world in folly growing old.
Now why should we among these futile graves
Proclaim the truth to dead or living dust,
Bow to the earth like overburdened slaves ?—
Re-born the freemen of a higher trust!
Have words a substance whereon light may shine ?
Can beauty glow upon a trembling sound ?
Can aught but deeds foreshadow the divine ?
Or save in symbols can the truth be found ?
Let no weak doubt defeat your eager hand;
For all must heed though few may understand.