Men that have stood like mountains in the flood
Of change that runs like ruin through the earth,
When murder seems the purpose of all birth,
When food is fire, and harvest-treasure blood,
Men that like fixed eternal stars have stood,
Their faith clear-shining sadly, and their mind
Unmaddened with the madness of their king,
They are the godlike, the the great and good.
With light, and mountain steadiness of power,
And faith like theirs in this all-fluid hour,
You to the dreadful depth of change descend,
And with its motion, moving it, you blend
Your conquering purpose, as blue rivers roll
Through all the ocean's waters toward the pole.
