Great natures live apart; the mountain gray
May call no comrade to his lonely side;
The giant ocean, wrapped in storm and spray,
Has no companion for her endless tide;
The forest monarch, where his parents died,
Can find no brother in his lofty sway,
And mighty rivers chafe their margins wide
Where infant rills and childish fountains play.

So heroes live; no raptured blossoms start
Where rugged heights of human glory end;
No tender songs of loving beauty blend
Their chorus in the great man’s peerless heart;
Fate fills their souls with magnitude, and art
Supplies their lives with no congenial friend.