Page:Bierce - Collected Works - Volume 04.djvu/97

Rh Sages in procession stalking
 * Moved majestic to and fro,

And each lowly mortal walking In their shadow stilled his talking,
 * Heeding the sonorous flow
 * Of their wisdom, loud or low,
 * Long ago.

Angel Woman, younger, fairer
 * Far than she that now we know,

Gave men meeting with a rarer Grace. No graybeard cried, "Beware her
 * Tongue and temper!" She was slow
 * To wrath. I tell you that was so,
 * Long ago.

Ah, the miracle of morning.
 * Setting all the world aglow

Like a smile of light adorning God's own face, held no forewarning
 * Of the tempest that would blow—
 * Sign and prophecy of woe,
 * Long ago.

Hope from every hilltop beckoned
 * To the happy throngs below;

And they confidently reckoned