Postscript.

L’envoi.
Long, long ago, when the Earth was young
And Time was not yet old,
Ere all the stars in the sky were hung,
Or the silver moon grown cold;
When the clouds that sail between the worlds
Were fanned with fluttering wings,
And over all the land there curled
The fronds of growing things;
When fishes swarmed in all the seas,
And on the wooded shore
There roamed among the forest trees
A million beasts or more;
Then in the early morn of Time,
Called from the formless clod,
Came Man, to start the weary climb
From wild beast up to God,—
Oh, bravely did he dare and do,
And bravely fight and die,
Or you to-day could not be you
And I could not be I.