MARS
And now, as dewdrops in the dawn-light glisten,
Remote and cold—see—Earth and Venus roll.
We signalled them—in music! Did they listen?
Could they not hear those whispers of the soul?
May not their flesh have sealed that fount of glory,
That pure ninth sense which told us of mankind?
Can some deep sleep bereave them of our story
As darkness hides all colours from the blind?