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Wilfrid Scawen Blunt - To A Disciple Of William Morris
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Stand fast by the ideal. Hero be,
 You in your youth, as he from youth to age.
 Dare to be last, least, in good modesty,
 Nor fret thy soul for speedier heritage.
 Even as he lived, live thou, laborious, sage,
 Yielding thy flower, leaf, fruitage seasonably,
 Content if but some beauty in Time`s page
 Out of thy being spring and live through thee.
 Churl Fame shall grudge (ah, let it grudge!) thee glory.
 Knaves have earned that. Behold, the blossoming thorn
 Emblazoneth the hedge where fools made foray,
 Redeemeth their sad flouts and jibes forlorn.
 Ere thou shalt guess, the nightingale thy story
 Learning shall speak of thee and shame their scorn.
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