Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/173

The sculptured trinkets and the crystal cup,
The sheathed, bronze sword, the knife with brazen haft.
Fain would we wrest with curious eyes from these
Unnumbered long-forgotten histories,
The deeds heroic of this mighty man,
On whom once more the living daylight beams,
To shame our littleness, to mock our dreams,
And the abyss of centuries to span.

Yet could we rouse him from his blind repose,
How might we meet his searching questionings,
Concerning all the follies, wrongs, and woes,
Since his great day whom men call King of Kings,
Victorious Agamemnon ? How might we
Those large, clear eyes confront, which scorn fully
Would view us as a poor, degenerate race,
Base-souled and mean - proportioned? What reply
Give to the beauty-loving Greek’s heart-cry,
Seeking his ancient gods in vacant space?

What should he find within a world grown cold,
Save doubt and trouble ? To his sunny creed
A thousand gloomy, warring sects succeed.
How of the Prince of Peace might he be told,