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"From reason who can urge the plea—

Freemen conquerors of the free?

When blood returns to the shrunken vein,

Shall the wound of the Nation bleed again?

Well may the wars wan thought supply,

And kill the kindling of the hopeful eye,

Unless you do what even kings have done

In leniency—unless you shun

To copy Europe in her worst estate—

Avoid the tyranny you reprobate."

He ceased. His earnestness unforeseen

Moved, but not swayed their former mien;

And they dismissed him. Forth he went

Through vaulted walks in lengthened line

Like porches erst upon the Palatine:

Historic reveries their lesson lent,

The Past her shadow through the Future sent.

But no. Brave though the Soldier, grave his plea—

Catching the light in the future's skies,

Instinct disowns each darkening prophecy:

Faith in America never dies;

Heaven shall the end ordained fulfill,

We march with Providence cheery still.