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The Enthusiast
By Herman Melville

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     "Though He slay me yet will I trust in Him."

     Shall hearts that beat no base retreat
       In youth's magnanimous years—
     Ignoble hold it, if discreet
       When interest tames to fears;
     Shall spirits that worship light
       Perfidious deem its sacred glow,
       Recant, and trudge where worldlings go,
     Conform and own them right?

     Shall Time with creeping influence cold
       Unnerve and cow? the heart
     Pine for the heartless ones enrolled
       With palterers of the mart?
     Shall faith abjure her skies,
       Or pale probation blench her down
       To shrink from Truth so still, so lone
     Mid loud gregarious lies?

     Each burning boat in Caesar's rear,
       Flames—No return through me!
     So put the torch to ties though dear,
       If ties but tempters be.
     Nor cringe if come the night:
       Walk through the cloud to meet the pall,
       Though light forsake thee, never fall
     From fealty to light.
 
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