NOT on the neck of prince or hound
Nor on a woman-s finger twin-d,
May gold from the deriding ground
Keep sacred that we sacred bind:
Only the heel
Of splendid steel
Shall stand secure on sliding fate,
When golden navies weep their freight.

The scarlet hat, the laurell-d stave
Are measures, not the springs, of worth;
In a wife-s lap, as in a grave,
Man-s airy notions mix with earth.
Seek other spur
Bravely to stir
The dust in this loud world, and tread
Alp-high among the whisp-ring dead.

Trust in thyself,-then spur amain:
So shall Charybdis wear a grace,
Grim AEtna laugh, the Libyan plain
Take roses to her shrivell-d face.
This orb-this round
Of sight and sound-
Count it the lists that God hath built
For haughty hearts to ride a-tilt.