Two kinds of courage are there in the creed
Of simple men. The one is courage born,
Not made; enfibred in the heart, not worn
Above it; strong in every hour of need.
The other courage is of doubtful breed,
For cowardice itself caught on the thorn
Of sharp despair may lead a hope forlorn
And trick the world with one swift dazzling deed.
But this that holds me in perpetual lease,
How can I give so motley thing a name?
That wins no battles nor will sue for peace,
That dares, that cries ‘Alas, my strength is gone!’
That droops, revives, that falters and fights on-
Is this thing courage or but fear of shame?
(Louis Lavater)
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