The Happy Warrior

     Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he
     That every man in arms should wish to be?
     --It is the generous Spirit, who, when brought
     Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought
     Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought:
     Whose high endeavours are an inward light
     That makes the path before him always bright;
     Who, with a natural instinct to discern
     What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn;
     Abides by this resolve, and stops not there,
     But makes his moral being his prime care;
     Who, doomed to go in company with Pain,
     And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train!
     Turns his necessity to glorious gain;
     In face of these doth exercise a power
     Which is our human nature's highest dower:
     Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves
     Of their bad influence, and their good receives:
     By objects, which might force the soul to abate
     Her feeling, rendered more compassionate;
     Is placable--because occasions rise
     So often that demand such sacrifice;
     More skilful in self-knowledge, even more pure,
     As tempted more; more able to endure,
     As more exposed to suffering and distress;
     Thence, also, more alive to tenderness.
     --'Tis he whose law is reason; who depends
     Upon that law as on the best of friends;
     Whence, in a state where men are tempted still
     To evil for a guard against worse ill,
     And what in quality or act is best
     Doth seldom on a right foundation rest,
     He labours good on good to fix, and owes
     To virtue every triumph that he knows:
     --Who, if he rise to station of command,
     Rises by open means; and there will stand
     On honourable terms, or else retire,
     And in himself possess his own desire;
     Who comprehends his trust, and to the same
     Keeps faithful with a singleness of aim;
     And therefore does not stoop, nor lie in wait
     For wealth, or honours, or for worldly state;
     Whom they must follow; on whose head must fall,
     Like showers of manna, if they come at all:
     Whose powers shed round him in the common strife,
     Or mild concerns of ordinary life,
     A constant influence, a peculiar grace;
     But who, if he be called upon to face
     Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined
     Great issues, good or bad for human kind,
     Is happy as a Lover; and attired
     With sudden brightness, like a Man inspired;
     And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law
     In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw;
     Or if an unexpected call succeed,
     Come when it will, is equal to the need:
     --He who, though thus endued as with a sense
     And faculty for storm and turbulence,
     Is yet a Soul whose master-bias leans
     To homefelt pleasures and to gentle scenes;
     Sweet images! which, wheresoe'er he be,
     Are at his heart; and such fidelity
     It is his darling passion to approve;
     More brave for this, that he hath much to love:--
     'Tis, finally, the Man, who, lifted high,
     Conspicuous object in a Nation's eye,
     Or left unthought-of in obscurity,--
     Who, with a toward or untoward lot,
     Prosperous or adverse, to his wish or not--
     Plays, in the many games of life, that one
     Where what he most doth value must be won:
     Whom neither shape or danger can dismay,
     Nor thought of tender happiness betray;
     Who, not content that former worth stand fast,
     Looks forward, persevering to the last,
     From well to better, daily self-surpast:
     Who, whether praise of him must walk the earth
     For ever, and to noble deeds give birth,
     Or he must fall, to sleep without his fame,
     And leave a dead unprofitable name--
     Finds comfort in himself and in his cause;
     And, while the mortal mist is gathering, draws
     His breath in confidence of Heaven's applause:
     This is the happy Warrior; this is he
     That every man in arms should wish to be. 

Wordsworth (1806)