Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922.

Compensation

I KNOW the sorrows of the last abyss:

I walked the cold black pools without a star;

I lay on rock of unseen flint and spar;

I heard the execrable serpent hiss;

I dreamed of sun, fruit-tree, and virgin’s kiss;

I woke alone with midnight near and far,

And everlasting hunger, keen to mar;

But I arose, and my reward is this:

I am no more one more amid the throng:

Though name be naught, and lips forever weak,

I seem to know at last of mighty song;

And with no blush, no tremor on the cheek,

I do claim consort with the great and strong

Who suffered ill and had the gift to speak.