Hearts that are great beat never loud,
They muffle their music when they come;
They hurry away from the thronging crowd
With bended brows and lips half dumb,
And the world looks on and mutters — “Proud.”
But when great hearts have passed away
Men gather in awe and kiss their shroud,
And in love they kneel around their clay.
Hearts that are great are always lone,
They never will manifest their best;
Their greatest greatness is unknown —
Earth knows a little — God, the rest.