The High Prize.

O hero, marked for some supreme award,1
With strong soul set to one sufficient end,2
Past strife grown dim behind thee, nought to bend3
Thy will from purest purpose, or retard4
Thy steps from that far-seen, divine reward5
Whereto thy strenuous hope did ever tend,—6
Doth thy great prize in very truth transcend7
His unsought recompense who—having warred8
In darkness, hopeless ; onward ever pressed,9
Seeing no goal, yet faithful,—wakes abashed10
To unsuspected gain ; and cries, outworn,11
Not worthy, Lord ! ” and trembles, being blessed ;12
As if a sudden sunrise-glory flashed13
On one who wept all night, nor dreamed of morn ?14