Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/137

   Is there no pure trust in woman?
    No conquering faith in God?
   Are there no feet strong to follow
    In the paths the martyrs trod?

   "Did you find no hero graves
    When your violets bloomed last May
   Prouder than those of Marathon,
    Or 'old Platea's day'?
   When your red and white and blue
    On the free winds fluttered out,
   Were there no strong hearts and voices
    To receive it with a shout?
     Oh! let the Earth grow old!
     And the burning stars grow cold!
 And, if you will, declare man's story told!
     Yet, pure as faith is pure,
     And sure as death is sure,
 As long as love shall live, shall song endure!"

IV.

When, one by one, the stately, silent Years
Glide like pale ghosts beyond our yearning sight,
Vainly we stretch our arms to stay their flight,
So soon, so swift they pass to endless night!
    We hardly learn to name them,
    To praise them or to blame them,
    To know their shadowy faces,
    Ere we see their empty places!
    Only once the glad Spring greets them;
    Only once fair Summer meets them;
    Only once the Autumn glory
    Tells for them its mystic story;
    Only once the Winter hoary
    Weaves for them its robes of light!