THE OLD MEN
Ye sing a song of the young men
In the pride of an early strength,
Ye sing a song of the young men
And ye give it goodly length;
I sing a song of the old men—
Of the men on a homeward tack
And a steady wheel and an even keel
That never a wind may rack.
Ye sing a song of the strong men
In the birth of a splendid youth,
Ye sing a song of the strong men
And ye sing mayhap in truth;
But I—I sing of the old men
Who’ve weathered the outer seas,
And lifting the bark through the growing dark,
Bear back in the sunset breeze.
Ye sing a song of the young men
Ere they reach the second stake,
And a name to choose and a name to lose
In the scruff of the rudder’s wake;
But I—I sing of the old men
In the glow of the tempered days,
Whose chartings show the paths to go
Through the mesh of a million ways.
Ye sing a song of the strong men
In the flush of the first fair blow,
Ye sing a song of the strong men
Or ever the end ye know;
But I—I sing of the old men—
Time-tested—weathered brown—
Who unafraid the port have made,
Where all brave ships go down.
THE FOUR-ROADS POST
They had come at the Spirit’s bidding—
Who bore the right to seek—
And the hungry he brake and gave them bread,
And strength he gave to the weak.
Honor and Gold and Triumph—
Love and Land and Fame—
As they deserved to each he served—
And they left and blessed his name.
And only one was waiting
Before the Giver’s knee,
And He said, “Oh spawn of a troubled Earth—
What may I do for thee?”