The Character of the Happy Warrior

This poem is one of my favorites--The Character of the Happy Warrior by William Wordsworth. This is a hero. 

Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he

Whom every Man in arms should wish to be?

--It is the generous Spirit, who, when brought

Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought

Upon the plan that pleased his childish thought:

Whose high endeavours are an inward light

That make the path before him always bright:

Who, with a natural instinct to discern

What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn;

Abides by this resolve, and stops not there, 

But makes his moral being his prime care;

Who, doom'd to go in company with Pain,

And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train!

Turns his necessity to glorious gain;

In face of these doth exercise a power

Which is our human-nature's highest dower;

Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves

Of their bad influence, and their good receives;

By objects, which might force the soul to abate

Her feeling, render'd more compassionate;

Is placable because occasions rise

So often that demand such sacrifice;

More skilful in self-knowledge, even more pure,

As tempted more; more able to endure,

As more expos'd to suffering and distress;

Thence, also, more alive to tenderness.

Tis he whose law is reason; who depends

Upon that law as on the best of friends;

Whence, in a state where men are tempted still

To evil for a guard against worse ill, 

And what in quality or act is best

Doth seldom on a right foundation rest,

He fixes good on good alone, and owes

To virtue every triumph that he knows:

--Who, if he rise to station of command,

Rises by open means; and there will stand

On honourable terms, or else retire,

And in himself possess his own desire;

Who comprehends his trust, and to the same

Keeps faithful with a singleness of aim;

And therefore does not stoop, nor lie in wait

For wealth, or honors, or for worldly state;

Whom they must follow; on whose head must fall,

Like showers of manna, if they come at all:

Whose powers shed round him in the common strife,

Or mild concerns of ordinary life,

A constant influence, a peculiar grace;

But who, if he be called upon to face

Some awful moment to which heaven has join'd

Great issues, good or bad for human-kind,

Is happy as a Lover; and attired

With sudden brightness like a Man inspired;

And through the heat of conflict keeps the law

In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw;

Or if an unexpected call succeed,

Come when it will, is equal to the need:

--He who, though thus endued as with a sense

And faculty for storm and turbulence,

Is yet a Soul whose master bias leans

To home-felt pleasures and to gentle scenes; 

Sweet images! which, wheresoe'er he be,

Are at his heart; and such fidelity

It is his darling passion to approve;

More brave for this, that he hath much to love:

'Tis, finally, the Man, who, lifted high,

Conspicuous object in a Nation's eye,

Or left unthought-of in obscurity,

Who, with a toward or untoward lot,

Prosperous or adverse, to his wish or not,

Plays, in the many games of life, that one 

Where what he most doth value must be won;

Whom neither shape of danger can dismay,

Nor thought of tender happiness betray;

Who, not content that former worth stand fast,

Looks forward, persevering to the last,

From well to better, daily self-surpast:

Who, whether praise of him must walk the earth

For ever, and to noble deeds give birth,

Or He must go to dust without his fame,

And leave a dead unprofitable name, 

Finds comfort in himself and in his cause;

And, while the mortal mist is gathering, draws

His breath in confidence of Heaven's applause;

This is the happy Warrior; this is He

Whom every Man in arms should wish to be.