Here lie the stars which have fallen, from the altar of the race.
Their light still on our memories gleam, bright before our face.
These are of our people, their souls are still upon the breeze.
Death cannot them destroy, or blot out their secret memories.
Some of them were old and faded, and others were of the age of the bloom,
That grows upon the lilies, and fades before the rays of noon.
But out in the mist they are waiting to greet us, and we shall welcome them once more.
Beneath the sun that shines in stillness, upon this living shore.
The battlements are faded, and the swords are laid aside,
And he has come with his saints to reign through the ages, over the human tide.
A Meditation—Life
I see the people out on the plains—from the distance they call to me. Come and march with us for a day, and be one of the people of the plains. Floating along with the winds that blow—the great human sea.
I love the sage and the vintage that grow, and the oaks that stand in chains. I love the music sung with the wings of the dust through the fields of chaffing grains, shadowed beneath the azure light of the hill's refrains.
Move, you angels of speed, across the white serenes. You rocks of earth stand still. You seas that lash with a turbulent rage shall all obey my will. I will watch by the things that strive and love, till all the earth be filled.