Right's Security

What if the wind do howl without,     And turn the creaking weather-vane;     What if the arrows of the rain     Do beat against the window-pane?     Art thou not armored strong and fast     Against the sallies of the blast?     Art thou not sheltered safe and well     Against the flood's insistent swell?     What boots it, that thou stand'st alone,     And laughest in the battle's face     When all the weak have fled the place     And let their feet and fears keep pace?     Thou wavest still thine ensign, high,     And shoutest thy loud battle-cry;     Higher than e'er the tempest roared,     It cleaves the silence like a sword.     Right arms and armors, too, that man     Who will not compromise with wrong;     Though single, he must front the throng,     And wage the battle hard and long.     Minorities, since time began,     Have shown the better side of man;     And often in the lists of Time     One man has made a cause sublime!