Shadows (Howe)/Unconquered

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UNCONQUERED
HIGH o'er the city's roofs a storm-blown gull,Driven landward from the sea,Battles against the winds without a lull,Yet inland farther, ever back,Helpless is tossed with flying rack;But, messenger of constancy to me,I joy to see him facing ocean still,— ​As beaten souls through storm and nightMay changeless face the hidden lightBy Heaven-sent power and strength of steadfast will.

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