At first, my heart made treaty with the night,
Bearing my own soft chains as bracelets worn;
I shaded candle, called the coward light,
And flattered dark as if indulgence sworn;
Yet thine own whispers, Soul, like trumpets blew,
And bid me face the field I fled and rue.
conquer

For valor, taught by fear, turns back to charge:
I steeled my pulse, and ran into the roar;
The griffin Doubt spread shadow-wings at large,
And Envy hissed behind her iron door;
I kissed the blade that hunted me before,
And found it grew a key to Freedom's store.
conquer

I drilled my passions as unruly bands,
Set hunger's pikes and made sloth stand to rank;
I gave my rages seals and stern commands,
And banished drowsy peace from every flank;
My breast the drum; my breath the iron thump,
Till inward blasts made outward ramparts slump.
conquer

Then night grew velvet to my tempered skin;
The raven hours perched tame upon my glove;
Grief, like a sullen page, was sent within
To oil the mail and buckle Hope above;
Then counsel, feathered white, descended—dove;
And armed me all in calm, and all in love.
conquer

Forth went I then, cuirassed with gentle might,
Where kingdoms trade in thunder, streets in spite;
The world's black market whispered terms of night,
And rumor loosed her jackals for delight;
But I, re-nerved, ran to the cannon's glare,
And fear, outflanked, forsook her ancient lair.
conquer

The Courts of Flattery

Armed in calm and all in love, the poet storms the temples of the world.

I stormed the courts where flatteries are crowned,
Met gold with gaze that would not bend nor bow;
I marched through temples, tore the velvet sound
From incense thick as cloud on Sinai's brow;
I courted storm, made treaty with the Now,
And signed with blood the covenant of vow.
conquer

At last, the Dark that hunted all my ways
Kneeled like a charger, pawing to be led;
I bridled midnight with a comet's blaze,
And wore its star-shot banner for my head;
Night served like wine; I poured it, warm and red,
And slept a captain on its sable bed.
conquer

O friend that reads me by a trembling flame,
Thy midnights, too, have pressed a jealous brow;
Run at thy wolf; compel him bear thy name;
Take flame for comrade; make the moment bow;
Let tears baptize thy helm; let sinews plough;
And we shall sound one bugle from the prow.
conquer

Come, take my gauntlet; lash thy pulse with mine;
We'll hunt the dark that lingers on the plain;
Our double-heart shall set the stars in line,
And ride like dawn through every bastioned pain;
The world, once legion-named, shall bow its mane,
And we, one soul in two bright helms, shall reign.
one word we breathe upon the world,
conquer.

-- Jeffrey Phillips Freeman