Bravely said; yet men have spoken
Just as bravely long ago,
When the hair had raven blackness
Which is now as white as snow;
And alas! how many thousands
Have responded to that call,
Whose forgotten corpses moulder
By the still beleaguered wall!
Forms have changed and words have altered,
But the things remain the same;
Still doth man enslave his brother,—
Always master, save in name.
Still are God's dumb creatures tortured,
Racial hatreds never cease,
And man's greatest self-delusion
Is the shibboleth of "Peace."
Hence, while youth, with hope and courage,
Loudly vents its noble rage;
Age, profoundly disillusioned,
Sad and silent leaves the stage.
Round the classic Inland Ocean,
Where the Roman world held sway,
Storied shores are iridescent
With the splendor of decay;
Persia, Syria, Egypt, Athens,
Proud Byzantium, Carthage, Spain,—
In their mournful desolation
Hear the old sea's sad refrain:—
"Rising, falling, waxing, waning,
Men and nations come and go;
Reaching glory, then declining,
As the ebb succeeds the flow.
"All florescence is but fleeting:
Each in turn enjoys its day,
Hath its seed-time, bud and flower,
And as surely fades away.
"Growth, maturity, decadence,—
Form mankind's unchanging role,
And the dead past's sombre ruins
Are prophetic of the whole."