William Wordsworth (1770–1850)

BRAVE Schill! by death delivered, take thy flight

From Prussia’s timid region. Go, and rest

With heroes, ’mid the Islands of the Blest,

Or in the fields of empyrean light.

A meteor wert thou crossing a dark night;

Yet shall thy name, conspicuous and sublime,

Stand in the spacious firmament of time,

Fixed as a star: such glory is thy right.

Alas! it may not be: for earthly fame

Is fortune’s frail dependent; yet there lives

A Judge, who, as man claims by merit, gives;

To whose all-pondering mind a noble aim,

Faithfully kept, is as a noble deed;

In whose pure sight all virtue doth succeed.