Poesy

My Triumph

The autumn-time has come;On woods that dream of bloom,And over purpling vines,The low sun fainter shines.

The aster-flower is failing,The hazel's gold is paling;Yet overhead more nearThe eternal stars appear!

And present gratitudeInsures the future's good,And for the things I seeI trust the things to be;

That in the paths untrod,And the long days of God,My feet shall still be led,My heart be comforted.

O living friends who love me!O dear ones gone above me!Careless of other fame,I leave to you my name.

Hide it from idle praises,Save it from evil phrases:Why, when dear lips that spake itAre dumb, should strangers wake it?

Let the thick curtain fall;I better know than allHow little I have gained,How vast the unattained.

Not by the page word-paintedLet life be banned or sainted:Deeper than written scrollThe colors of the soul.

Sweeter than any sungMy songs that found no tongue;Nobler than any factMy wish that failed of act.

Others shall sing the song,Others shall right the wrong, --Finish what I begin,And all I fail of win.

What matter, I or they?Mine or another's day,So the right word be saidAnd life the sweeter made?

Hail to the coming singers!Hail to the brave light-bringers!Forward I reach and shareAll that they sing and dare.

The airs of heaven blow o'er me;A glory shines before meOf what mankind shall be, --Pure, generous, brave, and free.

A dream of man and womanDiviner but still human,Solving the riddle old,Shaping the Age of Gold!

The love of God and neighbor;An equal-handed labor;The richer life, where beautyWalks hand in hand with duty.

Ring, bells in unreared steeples,The joy of unborn peoples!Sound, trumpets far off blown,Your triumph is my own!

Parcel and part of all,I keep the festival,Fore-reach the good to be,And share the victory.

I feel the earth move sunward,I join the great march onward,And take, by faith, while living,My freehold of thanksgiving.

Sign in to like, rate and collect poems, and keep track of what you've read.