Nation to nation calls, race unto race,
Englobing and dissolving, bodied o'er
In larger units, nearer to our goal,
The incarnation of humanity.
I cannot cease from belief in the To-Come,
The top and crown of worship of the past;
For I was bred in reverence of the great
Fathers of men, who gave their names to tribes,
Cities and lands, and are their memory,—
Founders of states, though state and land be lost,
Sires of mankind, and saviours, though they die."
"Where are my soldier-mates?" the chieftain cried,
"Brothers-in-arms, my children in the fight,
My battle-brood,—young, golden eagle-brood—
That drank the morning as the wine-cup, flung
The rose of youth into the face of death,
And rang the laughter of the sword above
The waves of onset, as they sank to night
Down the dark depths of the To-Come?" He paused,—
"The sun shall come again, the spring return;
Cities shall rise and fall, dominions fade;
And death be swallowed up in victory.
Time is the victor, and he mindeth not
The sacrifice. Both king and kingdom die."
Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/134
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124
THE ROAMER