Courage

Two kinds of courage are there in the creed
Of simple men. The one is courage born,
Not made ; enfibred in the heart, not worn
Above it ; strong in every hour of need.
The other courage is of doubtful breed,
For cowardice itself caught on the thorn
Of sharp despair may lead a hope forlorn.
And trick the world with one swift dazzling deed.

But this that holds me in perpetual lease,
How can I give so motley thing a name ?
That wins no battles nor will sue for peace,
That dares, that cries ' Alas, my strength is gone ! '
That droops, revives, that falters and fights on —
Is this thing courage or but fear of shame ?