Where are the ruins of magnificence
Which the grim demon war has overthrown?
Where are the hanging gardens of Semiramis
When Babylonian maids their glances threw
Upon their bloom?
Egypt and Carthage, Greece and Rome havepassed
In long procession down the stream of Time;
The sands of centuries o’er them are cast.
Gone are those mighty cities at whose shrine
Knelt luxury and vice.
And in their train came war with cruel knife,
Creating widows, pestilence and death;
And man against his brother in the strife
Fell ’neath the devastating monster’s breath,
His blood the price.
Then speed the day when the white dove of peace,
With olive branch extended to the world,
Shall all unite in brotherhood to man,
With flag of universal love unfurled—
And war shall cease.
HOPE.
I walked with joy: the path was smooth
And rose-strewn, for all things to youth
Seem beautiful; and in those childhood’s days
Oft’ would I wander dreaming down the ways
Which led into the grotto in the leafy wood,
Where chestnut trees and tall laburnums stood,
Waving their golden heads; and ’neath my feet
Grew cowslips, anemones, and bluebells sweet;
And past the statue of old “Time,” so scarred,
Who, scythe in hand, in stony silence stared.
And the green sward, like velvet carpet, spread,
With the vast canopy of azure sky o’erhead.
And down the slope where deer with lustrous eye
And schools of rooks would weary homeward fly.
Across the lake the swans would graceful glide,
While we our daisy chain would weave, beside
The bank where lay the water lilies white—
Where in our childish fancy dwelt a sprite.
Ah, me! Those days returning nevermore!
But thoughts remain alone of those sweet days of yore.
I walked with grief. The way was rough and long.
The world was gray and gloomy, and the voice of song
Was hushed. No longer did the silver tones of dear
Home voices with their music greet mine ear;
But sudden memory would sometimes ope a door,
And forms and faces, long since gone before,
Would force the poignant tears of grief to flow—
For those dear vanished friends of long ago.
I walked with Hope, who stretched a tender thread
And led me on and upward, past the dead,
Dark days. Then did my captive spirits find
That disappointments and the years had sunk behind
The grandeur and the majesty sublime
Of higher thoughts, and hidden things divine.
And sweet communion of kindred souls
Without the mortal ban, as free as rolls
The ocean when in placid mood;
Or the pure air, pouring in joyous flood,
Piercing the veil of flesh to see some noble spirit in its purity,
With lofty and exalted mein in calm serenity,
Making the common tasks a noble duty and a prayer,
Ascending to the skies, and placing there
A holy sacrifice—The altar place Heaven’s throne—
Making our Earth an Eden of our own.