Achievement

He held himself splendidly forward     Both early and late;     The aim of his purpose was starward,     To master his fate:     So he wrought and he toiled and he waited,     Till he rose o'er the hordes that he hated,     And stood on the heights, as was fated,     Made one of the great.     Then lo! on the top of the mountain,     With walls that were wide,     A city! from which, as a fountain,     Rose voices that cried:     "He comes! Let us forth now to meet him!     Both mummer and priest let us greet him!     In the city he built let us seat him     On the throne of his pride!"     Then out of the city he builded,     Of shadows it seems,     From gates that his fancy had gilded     With thought's brightest gleams,     Strange mimes and chimeras came trooping,     With moping and mowing and stooping     And he saw, with a heart that was drooping,     That these were his dreams.     He entered; and, lo! as he entered     They murmured his name;     And led him where, burningly centred,     An altar of flame     Made lurid a temple, erected     Of self, where a form he detected     The love that his life had rejected     And this was his fame.