Remember me, and hold you strait within
Your mind and soul, though others slink and swerve;
Remember then, when fear did not unnerve
High hope, before the apostate’s tide came in;
Remember, now, the Beauty of the days
That lit your morning eyes, gave sense to Time
When you were new: remember! In your prime
Tend youth-set Truth, though others douse its blaze.
Come what comes, hold to what you then wove
Of the splendid world; serve still with Hope and Will
The angry, glowing Aisling* no one can kill:
Life that is ruled by reason fraught with love,
Where now Hate rules, and Truth, afraid to brave
Despair, lurks by the stark precocious grave.
*An aisling is an Irish vision poem