Wasted Strength

And has my love then no more use than this, —
To waste its strength in waves of sterile song
Upon life's shore, while heart and hand are strong
To dare for love's sake every ill that is?
O God, the dying patriot's final bliss.
Who, though he see his land not free from wrong.
Knows, as he stands above the shrieking throng.
He serves her dying, without crown or kiss!

The Pagans joy when for their gods they die
As Christians for their Christ: I, only I,
Must worship what I may not serve at all.
O thou, my land, my Christ, my God, my love!
Find some sure way whereby love's strength to prove,
Ere love and life in one vast ruin fall.