THE CROWN OF FAILURE

When you have lived your life, When you have fought your last good fight and won, And the day’s work is finished, and the sun Sets on your darkening world and all its strife— Ere the worn hands are tired with all they’ve done, Ere the mind’s strength begins to droop and wane, Ere the first touch of sleep has dulled the brain, Ere the heart’s springs are slow and running dry— When you have lived your life, ’Twere good to die. If it may not be so, If you but fight a fight you may not win, See the far goal but may not enter in, ’Twere better then to die and not to know Defeat—to die amid the rush and din, Still striving, while the heart beats high and fast With glorious life: if you must fail, at last, Such end were best, with all your hope and all Your spirit in its youth, Then, when you fall. Far better so to die, Still toiling upwards through the mists obscure, With all things possible and nothing sure, Than to be touched by glory and passed by, To win, by chance, fame that may not endure, That dies and leaves you living, while you strive With wasted breath to keep its flame alive, And fan, with empty boasts and proud regrets, Remembrance of a name The world forgets.