| |
| O POET of the future! I, | |
| Of the dead Present, bid thee hail! | |
| Come forth and speak,—our speech shall die: | |
| Come forth and sing,—our song shall fail: | |
| Our speech, our song fall barren,—we go by! | 5 |
| |
| Our heart is weak. In vain it swells | |
| And beats to bursting at the wrong: | |
| There never sets a sun but tells | |
| Of weak ones trampled down by strong, | |
| Of Truth and Justice both immured in cells. | 10 |
| |
| We would aspire, but round us lies | |
| A maze of high desires and aims; | |
| Would seek a prize, but, ah! our eyes | |
| Fail as we face the fallen fames | |
| Of the great world’s Olympian games. | 15 |
| |
| Seeing the victors vanquished, we | |
| Grow heartsick at the sight, and choose | |
| To hold in fee what things there be | |
| Rather than in the hazard use,— | |
| Than stake the all we have—to lose! | 20 |
| |
| We all are feeble. Still we tread | |
| An ever-upward sloping way; | |
| Deep chasms and dark are round us spread | |
| And bale-fires beckon us astray: | |
| But thou shalt stand upon the mountain head. | 25 |
| |
| But thou wilt look with gladdened eyes | |
| And see the mist of error flee, | |
| And see the happy suns arise | |
| Of happier days that are to be,— | |
| On greener, gladder earth, and clearer skies. | 30 |
| |
| We, of the Morning, but behold | |
| The dawn afar: thine eye shalt see | |
| The full and perfect day unfold,— | |
| The full and perfect day to be, | |
| When Justice shall return as lovely as of old. | 35 |
| |
| Thou, with unloosened tongue, shalt speak | |
| In words of subtle, silver sound,— | |
| In words not futile now, nor weak, | |
| To all the nations listening round | |
| Until they seek the light,—nor vainly seek! | 40 |
| |
| We only ask it as our share, | |
| That, when your day-star rises clear,— | |
| A perfect splendour in the air,— | |
| A glory ever, far and near,— | |
| Ye write such words—as these of those who were! | 45 |
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