| |
| THOSE earlier men that owned our earth | |
| When land and sea and skies were newer, | |
| Had they, by eldest’s right of birth, | |
| Sea stronger, greener land, sky bluer? | |
| Had what they sang and drew more worth | 5 |
| That bards and painters then were fewer? | |
| |
| Their daisy, oak and rose were new; | |
| Fresh runnels down their valleys babbled; | |
| New were red lip, true eyes, fresh dew; | |
| All dells, all shores, had not been rabbled; | 10 |
| Nor yet the rhyming lovers’ crew | |
| Tree-bark and casement-pane had scrabbled. | |
| |
| Feelings sprang fresh, to them, and thought; | |
| Fresh things were hope, trust, faith, endeavor; | |
| All things were new, wherein men wrought, | 15 |
| And so they had the lead, forever. | |
| To move the world their frank hearts sought | |
| Not even where to set their lever. | |
| |
| Then utterance, like thought, was young, | |
| And, when these yearning two were mated, | 20 |
| What shapes of airy life were flung | |
| Before the world as yet unsated! | |
| Life was in hand; life was in tongue; | |
| Life in whatever they created. | |
| |
| Must then the world to us be stale? | 25 |
| Must we be only after-comers? | |
| Must wilted green and sunshine pale | |
| Make mean all our dear springs and summers? | |
| To those free lords of song and tale | |
| Must we be only tricked-out mummers? | 30 |
| |
| Oh, no! was ever life-blood cold? | |
| Was wit e’er dull, when mirth was in it? | |
| Or when will blushing love be old? | |
| Or thrill of bobolink or linnet? | |
| Are all our blossoms touched with mould? | 35 |
| Lurks not fresh bloom where we may win it? | |
| |
| Yes! Life and strength forevercan; | |
| Life springs afresh through endless ages; | |
| Nor on our true work falls a ban, | |
| That it must halt, at shortened stages: | 40 |
| Throw man into it! man draws man | |
| In canvas, stone, or written pages. | |
| |
