HUMBLER HEROES.
Reading edition
It might not be so difficult to lead the light brigade, While the army cheered behind you, and the fifes and bugles played; It might be rather easy, with the war-shriek in your ears, To forget the bite of bullets and the taste of blood and tears. But to be a scrubwoman, with four Babies, or more, Every day, every day setting your back On the rack, And all your reward forever not quite A full bite Of bread for your babies. Say! In the heat of the day You might be a hero to head a brigade, But a hero like her? I'm afraid! I'm afraid! It might be very feasible to force a great reform, To saddle public passion and to ride upon the storm; It might be somewhat simple to ignore the roar of wrath, Because a second shout broke out to cheer you on your path. But he who, alone and unknown, is true To his view, Unswerved by the crush of the mutton-browed, Blatting crowd, Unwon by the flabby-brained, blinking ease Which he sees Throned and anointed. Say! At the height of the fray, You might be the chosen to captain the throng: But to stand all alone? How long? How long?