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“What of the hunting, hunter bold? Brother, the watch was long and cold. What of the quarry ye went to kill? Brother, he crops in the jungle still. Where is the power that made your pride? Brother, it ebbs from my flank and side. Where is the haste that ye hurry by? Brother, I go to my lair to die!”

...greatness.

“What of the hunting, hunter bold? Brother, the watch was long and cold. What of the quarry ye went to kill? Brother, he crops in the jungle still. Where is the power that made your pride? Brother, it ebbs from my flank and side. Where is the haste that ye hurry by? Brother, I go to my lair to die!” ...greatness.

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[–] • 1 pt

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Do not go gentle into that good night -Dylan Thomas

Also, Beowulf.

[–] • 1 pt

Rage, RAGE against the dying of the light!

Yes. That is greatness.

[–] • 2 pts

Also, The Wrath of the Awakened Saxon, by Kipling.

[+] [deleted] • 0 pt