For other versions of this work, see Unconquered.
UNCONQUERED
DEEM not, O Pain, that thou shalt vanquish me,
Who know each treacherous pang, each last device,
Whereby thou barrest the way to Paradise!
Inured to suffer constantly
Thy joyless fellowship, I gain
The lessons only taught by Pain,
And know, though broken, that my will
Subdues thee still!
Man was not born the slave of things like thee
And thy companion, Death: the livelong day
He valiant strives, and holds ye still at bay;
And when he can no longer see
For thickening shadows, faint and spent
He bears his standard to his tent
And yields ye seeming victory;
But—he is free!