| |
| A CROWN for the victor—a crown of light! | |
| From a land where the flowers ne’er feel a blight, | |
| Was gathered the wreath that around it glows, | |
| And he who o’ercometh his treacherous foes, | |
| That radiant crown shall gain:— | 5 |
| A king went forth on the rebel array | |
| That arose where a beautiful hamlet lay— | |
| He frown’d—and there ’s nought save ashes and blood | |
| And blacken’d bones where that hamlet stood, | |
| Yet his treacherous foes he hath not slain. | 10 |
| |
| A crown for the victor—a crown of light! | |
| Encircled with jewels so pure and bright, | |
| Night never hath gloom’d where their lustre glows, | |
| And he who can conquer his proudest foes, | |
| That glorious crown shall gain:— | 15 |
| A hero came from the crimson field, | |
| And low at his feet the pale captives kneel’d— | |
| In his might he had trodden a nation down, | |
| But he may not challenge the glorious crown, | |
| For his proudest foe he hath not slain. | 20 |
| |
| A crown for the victor—a crown of light! | |
| Like the morning sun, to the raptured sight | |
| From the night of a dungeon raised, it glows: | |
| And he who can slay his deadliest foes, | |
| That shining crown shall gain:— | 25 |
| With searching eye and stealthy tread, | |
| The man of wrath sought his enemy’s bed— | |
| Like festering wounds are the wrongs he hath borne, | |
| And he takes the revenge his soul hath sworn, | |
| But his deadliest foe he hath not slain. | 30 |
| |
| A crown for the victor—a crown of light! | |
| To be worn with a robe whose spotless white | |
| Makes darkness seem resting on Alpine snows— | |
| And he who o’ercometh his mightiest foes | |
| That robe and crown shall gain:— | 35 |
| With eye upraised—and forehead bare, | |
| A pilgrim knelt down in holy prayer— | |
| He hath wrestled with self and with passion striven, | |
| And to him hath the sword of the Spirit been given— | |
| O, crown him, for his foes—his sins are slain! | 40 |
| |
