Shrewd mystic! who upon the back
Of his Poor Richard's almanack,
Writing the Sufi's song, the Gentoe's dream,
Links Menu's age of thought to Fulton's age of steam!
'Emerson
THE sun looked old, the earth seem'd in its wane;
The race itself showed symptoms of decay;
A moral staleness fill'd each coming day
With aspirations largely counted vain.
The fields of thought, tho' rich with golden grain,
Ungathered stood, for lack of worthy hand
To harvest well, and feed a hungry land,
And build the world anew and fresh again.
Men's hearts were harden'd in their greed for pelf;
The church was sunk in narrow ruts to grope;
All eyes were blinded in the love of self;
And Christ was buried 'neath a pointless trope.
When came our king, as Truth and Beauty's guide,
And woke mankind to hopes and visions wide.