Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1838.pdf/55

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ancients of the earth, beneath whose shade Swept the fierce banners of earth's mightiest kings, When millions for a battle were arrayed, And the sky darkened with the vulture's wings.

Long silence followed on the battle-cries; First the bones whitened, then were seen no more; The summer grasses sprang for summer skies, And dim Tradition told no tales of yore.

The works of peace succeeded those first wars, Men left the desert tents for marble walls; Then rose the towers from whence they watched the stars, And the vast wonders of their kingly halls.

And they are perished—those imperial towers Read not amid the midnight stars their doom; The pomp and art of all their glorious hours Lie hidden in the sands that are their tomb.

And ye, ancestral trees! are somewhat shorn Of the first strength that marked earth's earlier clime, But still ye stand, stately and tempest-worn, To show how Nature triumphs over Time.

Much have ye witnessed—but yet more remains, The mind's great empire is but just begun; The desert beauty of your distant plains, Proclaim how much has yet been left undone.

Will not your giant columns yet behold The world's old age, enlightened, calm, and free; More glorious than the glories known of old— The spirit's placid rule o'er land and sea.

All that the past has taught is not in vain— Wisdom is garnered up from centuries gone; Love, Hope, and Mind prepare a nobler reign Than ye have known—Cedars of Lebanon!