Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/142

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122
VERMONT
       What though the Nation rose
       Triumphant o'er its foes?
      What though the State had gained
      The meed of faith unstained?
Their mighty hearts remembered the dead that came no more!
     Remembered all the losses,
     The weary, weary crosses,
Remembered earth was poorer for the blood that had been shed,
And knew that it was sadder for the story it had read!
   So, clasping hands with somewhat saddened mien,
   And eyes uplifted to the Great Unseen
   That rules alike o'er Centuries and men,
   Onward they walked serenely toward—the End!

XII.

One reached it last year. Ye remember well—
The wondrous tale there is no need to tell—
How the whole world bowed down beside its bier;
How all the Nations came, from far or near,
Heaping their treasures on its mighty pall—
Never had kingliest king such funeral!
Old Asia rose, and, girding her in haste,
Swept in her jewelled robes across the waste,
And called to Egypt lying prone and hid
Where waits the Sphinx beside the pyramid;
Fair Europe came with overflowing hands,
Bearing the riches of her many lands;
Dark Afric, laden with her virgin gold,
Yet laden deeper with her woes untold;
Japan and China in grotesque array,
And all the enchanted islands of Cathay!