Soldier of Justice, — fighting with her sword
Since thine was broken! Who need now despair
To lead a hope forlorn against the throng!
For what did David dare
Before Goliath worthy this compare —
Thou in the darkness fronting leagued wrong?
What true and fainting cause shall not be heir
Of all thy courage — more than miser's hoard!
In times remote, when some preposterous Ill
Man has not yet imagined, shall be King,
While comfortable Freedom nods, —
And Three shall meet to slay the usurping thing,
Thy name recalled shall clinch their potent will,
And as they cry, " He won — what greater odds! "
They shall become as gods.