Henry Parkes,
The Buried Chief
(1886)
“ Where rich and poor like brothers come. How bravely did the stripling climb, From step to step the rugged hill: His gaze thro' that benighted time Fix'd on the far-off beacon still. He faced the storm that o'er him burst, With pride to match the proudest born: He bore unblench'd Detraction's worst, — Paid blow for blow, and scorn for scorn. ”
