Beyond the color and insistent sound

Of banners raging in the wind and sun,

The sweep of bravery o'er a chosen ground,

Even beyond the flashing feet that run,

There move the feet that run not, and that bear

Not banners, but drooped head and arms at side.

With eyes burned dull they go, who do not dare,

On either side of triumph, dark and wide.

The marchers in the shadow, these, the blind,

The plodding crowds that seek what brave hearts find.

Beyond their stumbling press the great and few;

Young David, and Goliath that he slew.