To those who've fail'd， in aspiration1 vast，
To unnam'd soldiers fallen in front on the lead，
To calm， devoted2 engineers - to over-ardent
travelers - to pilots on their ships，
To many a lofty song and picture without recognition
- I'd rear a laurel-cover'd monument，
High， high above the rest - To all cut off
before their time，
Possess'd by some strange spirit of fire，
Quench'd by an early death.