XIX.

But praise--and dearer, holier praise be theirs, Who, in the stillness and the solitude Of hearts press’d earthwards by a weight of cares, Uncheer’d by Fame’s proud hope, th’ ethereal food Of restless energies, and only view’d By Him whose eye, from his eternal throne, Is on the soul’s dark places; have subdued And vow’d themselves with strength till then unknown, To some high martyr-task, in secret and alone.