THE PROCESSION
Lo, 'tis a vast procession passing by
From the great amphitheater of the past!
The cloistered avenues of imagery
Glow with the flame-light from their torches cast,
The suns of centuries hurried to their goal,
Their goal the chaos of the past unveiled,
The moons and stars of years beyond control;
Are these their torches, these by distance paled?
No; from their hands the quenchless font of flame
Shines brightening over suns forever set,
The burning rays of Truth's immortal fame
Forbid the future, to the past forget;
From the great amphitheater of the past!
The cloistered avenues of imagery
Glow with the flame-light from their torches cast,
The suns of centuries hurried to their goal,
Their goal the chaos of the past unveiled,
The moons and stars of years beyond control;
Are these their torches, these by distance paled?
No; from their hands the quenchless font of flame
Shines brightening over suns forever set,
The burning rays of Truth's immortal fame
Forbid the future, to the past forget;
But who are they of silent, stately tread
Still moving on to martial music sweet
While careless hands by passing impulse led
Are scattering briers and blossoms at their feet?
O, these are they with whose life-victories
The past, the future lavishly endows
The breezes of the coming centuries
Shall lightly wave the laurels on their brows!
Still moving on to martial music sweet
While careless hands by passing impulse led
Are scattering briers and blossoms at their feet?
O, these are they with whose life-victories
The past, the future lavishly endows
The breezes of the coming centuries
Shall lightly wave the laurels on their brows!
Ye crowds, who watch the grand processions march
Along the cities' bannered avenues,
Turn to where vague oblivion's boughs o'er-arch
From whose deep shades this regal train issues
Down through the centuries crowded thoroughfares
Gathering fresh numbers in their sure advance,
Each face, the mark of life-won battle bears;
They come not here by fortune, fate or chance.
Along the cities' bannered avenues,
Turn to where vague oblivion's boughs o'er-arch
From whose deep shades this regal train issues
Down through the centuries crowded thoroughfares
Gathering fresh numbers in their sure advance,
Each face, the mark of life-won battle bears;
They come not here by fortune, fate or chance.
And will you turn from these again to gaze
On some clan ego's petty pageantry?
Time's grand centennials mark their day of days
For theirs is more than vaunted vain display;
Behold they come, a strong resistless force
Unstopped by opposition's adamant
But pressing onward in their kingly course
Truth's principles immortal to implant;
On some clan ego's petty pageantry?
Time's grand centennials mark their day of days
For theirs is more than vaunted vain display;
Behold they come, a strong resistless force
Unstopped by opposition's adamant
But pressing onward in their kingly course
Truth's principles immortal to implant;
Yet not like plumed knights bearing pennons gay
Down Fancy's lighted avenues they come,
O what a thoughtful, earnest train are they
Advancing to old Time's year-measured drum,
Not like grim soldiers marching on to war,
Not like exultant gatherings national
No wave-washed empire boundary can bar
From any realm what they have won for all!
Down Fancy's lighted avenues they come,
O what a thoughtful, earnest train are they
Advancing to old Time's year-measured drum,
Not like grim soldiers marching on to war,
Not like exultant gatherings national
No wave-washed empire boundary can bar
From any realm what they have won for all!
They who have laid Truth's pearl-hewn corner stone
And struck unerring blows at Falsity
'Till her proud atoms to the four-winds blown
But Prophecy, how great her fall shall be!
Ah! many figures there we recognize,
Not by a memory of form or face
But by that recognition that defies
The cold, remorseless sweep of time and space.
And struck unerring blows at Falsity
'Till her proud atoms to the four-winds blown
But Prophecy, how great her fall shall be!
Ah! many figures there we recognize,
Not by a memory of form or face
But by that recognition that defies
The cold, remorseless sweep of time and space.
Have we not walked with them in paths apart,
Held with their thoughts benign communion sweet,
Whispering soul to soul and heart to heart
Or sat like children learning at their feet?
But, lo, among their numbers there is none
Like to One only, more than all beside
Thorns for unfading laurel-wreaths He won
He, who for man alone, hath lived and died.
Held with their thoughts benign communion sweet,
Whispering soul to soul and heart to heart
Or sat like children learning at their feet?
But, lo, among their numbers there is none
Like to One only, more than all beside
Thorns for unfading laurel-wreaths He won
He, who for man alone, hath lived and died.
The wreckless curb-stone-crowds, how many yet
Are scattering cruel briers in His path,
O, do they in their heedlessness forget
That heavens of mercy yet will cloud with wrath!
From the elixir of the purest truth
Turn they toward an image built of naught
Drinking through life, in childhood, age and youth
The bitterness of some deceiver's plot.
Are scattering cruel briers in His path,
O, do they in their heedlessness forget
That heavens of mercy yet will cloud with wrath!
From the elixir of the purest truth
Turn they toward an image built of naught
Drinking through life, in childhood, age and youth
The bitterness of some deceiver's plot.
Thanks be to you, ye great souls of the past,
For the life-lessons ye have lived to teach;
Thanks be to you that on Time's current cast
Fresh leaves of truth float ever in our reach,
And have they gone, the realms of imagery,
Dissolve their magic barriers to the real,
Roll in, ye waves of life's prosaic sea
But when will Fancy's queen their ranks reveal?
For the life-lessons ye have lived to teach;
Thanks be to you that on Time's current cast
Fresh leaves of truth float ever in our reach,
And have they gone, the realms of imagery,
Dissolve their magic barriers to the real,
Roll in, ye waves of life's prosaic sea
But when will Fancy's queen their ranks reveal?
O they will come again when vain and weak
Seemeth the strife of man to live for men,
Unto our lives their deathless lives will speak
Down through the noise of centuries that have been!
O they will come, yea ever and anon
With that majestic presence high and calm;
Until with them our teachers, we sit down
To the glad marriage-supper of the Lamb!
Seemeth the strife of man to live for men,
Unto our lives their deathless lives will speak
Down through the noise of centuries that have been!
O they will come, yea ever and anon
With that majestic presence high and calm;
Until with them our teachers, we sit down
To the glad marriage-supper of the Lamb!