[From Beneath Blue Skies and Gray (New York, 1898)]
Not with clash of arms,
Not 'midst war's alarms,
Thy splendid work was done,
Thy great victory won.
Unknown, thro' field and brake,
By calm or stormy lake,
Lured by swift passing wings—
Songs that a new world sings—
Thou didst untiring go
Led by thine ardor's glow,
Cheered by thy kindling thought
Beauty thy hand had wrought.
Leaving thy matchless page
Gift to a later age
That would revere thy name—
Build for thee, surely fame.
O, to have been with thee,
In that wild life and free,
While all the birds passed by
Under the new world sky!
O, to have heard the song
Of that glad-hearted throng,
Ere yet the settlers came
Giving the woods to flame!
O, to have with thee gone
Up the white steps of Dawn!
Or where the burning west
Crimsoned the wild drake's breast!
Yet better than bays we bring
Are the woods whispering
When life and leaf are new
Under the tender blue!
Master, awake! for May
Comes on her rainbowed way—
Hear thou bird-song again
Sweeter than praise of men!