To P.s. White

What is the gilded chaplet worth, That decks a conqueror's brow? There is no conqueror on earth Of nobler kind, than thou, For bloodless victories are thine, Whose splendor never shall decline.

The thanks of men redeemed from shame, The smiles of womanhood, The praise of great ones wed to fame, And of the humble good, A victor's monument, shall be, Through coming ages, unto thee.