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Katharine Tynan - A Hero
Work rating: Low

He was so foolish, the poor lad, 
     He made superior people smile 
Who knew not of the wings he had
     Budding and growing all the while; 
Nor that the laurel wreath was made 
Already for his curly head. 


Silly and childish in his ways; 
     They said: "His future comes to naught." 
His future! In the dreadful days
     When in a toil his feet were caught
He hacked his way to glory bright 
Before his day went down in night. 


He fretted wiser folk--small blame! 
     Such futile, feeble brains were his. 
Now we doff hats to hear his name, 
     Ask pardon where his spirit is, 
Because we never guessed him for 
A hero in the disguise he wore. 


It matters little how we live
     So long as we may greatly die. 
Fashioned for great things, O forgive
     Our dullness in the days gone by! 
Now glory wraps you like a cloak 
From us, and all such common folk.
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