VALE—ATQUE SALVE
(As a second presidential term was ending)
(February 25, 1921)
A Broken figure disappears alone
Down the dark roadway of the overthrown;
Yet is there time ere fades the twilight chill
For one more volley! Hasten, ye who will,
To seize on stick and shard, and hurl them after
The bent wayfarer! All your taunting laughter
Will fall unanswered; naught will he hurl back
Who plods in silence down the fated track.
But let none save the perfect cast a stone!
We, the imperfect, see the doom foreknown
On them whose vision passes human deed,
Who, free themselves in spirit, would have freed
Mankind at one quick stroke from its old bonds
Of greed and self that still to self responds.
Yet, bred in imperfections, know we not
That, stumbling through the mists, the light forgot,
Sudden we see the clouds lift from our land,
And on its sun-lit heights again we stand!
Then shall our leader through the valleys shine
