Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires! We ourselves must Pilgrims be,
Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea,
Nor attempt the future's portal with the past's blood-rusted key.
FOOTNOTE:
[25] Used by permission of Houghton, Mifflin & Co., authorized publishers of this author's works.
THE RECESSIONAL
Rudyard Kipling
God of our fathers, known of old—
Lord of our far-flung battle line—