A SONG OF YEARNING
Our eyes are dim with watching for the dawning of the day,
The yearned-for day that's coming when our griefs shall melt away:
Oh! shall we never, never, of that dawn perceive a ray?
Must we ever wait in vain?
The yearned-for day that's coming when our griefs shall melt away:
Oh! shall we never, never, of that dawn perceive a ray?
Must we ever wait in vain?
Must clashing interests evermore humanity divide?
Shall unjust might as in the past defenceless right o'er-ride?
Have all in vain our heroes fought, in vain our martyrs died?
Is the better day a dream?
Shall unjust might as in the past defenceless right o'er-ride?
Have all in vain our heroes fought, in vain our martyrs died?
Is the better day a dream?
Shall the world be ruled for ever by sophistries and lies?
Shall idle wealth for ever filch lean industry's fair prize?
Shall kings and priests for ever o'er the nations tyranise?
Shall wrong for ever reign?
Shall idle wealth for ever filch lean industry's fair prize?
Shall kings and priests for ever o'er the nations tyranise?
Shall wrong for ever reign?
Oh no! a day is coming with blessings in its train,
When no man to his brother man shall act the part of Cain,
And none from others' loss shall seek unhallowed wealth to gain:
Oh haste, most blessèd dawn!
When no man to his brother man shall act the part of Cain,
And none from others' loss shall seek unhallowed wealth to gain:
Oh haste, most blessèd dawn!
Then no man's interest apart from that of all shall be,
Nations no more in battle-shock shall meet on land or sea,
And universal Love shall make mankind one Family
Come soon, oh blessèd dawn!
Nations no more in battle-shock shall meet on land or sea,
And universal Love shall make mankind one Family
Come soon, oh blessèd dawn!
Might we but live to see the day when ancient wrong departs,
And man no more contends with man save in the peaceful arts!
Oh what a thrill of love and joy would glad our wearied hearts
On such a blessèd dawn!
And man no more contends with man save in the peaceful arts!
Oh what a thrill of love and joy would glad our wearied hearts
On such a blessèd dawn!
It is a dawn we'll hope for still, ev'n though we hope in vain;
We will not think the world was made for naught but care and pain;
We'll still believe we shall at last a Golden Age attain,
And every dawn be blessed!
We will not think the world was made for naught but care and pain;
We'll still believe we shall at last a Golden Age attain,
And every dawn be blessed!
1895