Page:The Soul of a Century.djvu/41



We know not how to sacrifice or die, Die for our country, nation, freedom’s cause! Against the benefits and blessings to our land, We cautiously weigh each selfish loss.

We know not how to sacrifice or die, We know not how to live and act as men! But should our wondrous country die some day Could we but try to live such lives again?

Through centuries we felt Fate’s heavy hand, But this shall not pursue us unto death. Though all the temples we had built by day Were shattered in the night, by treason’s breath.

Yea, every blow bestowed on us by fate Must help us anew in every risen plight. Hence let us learn to build our shrines anew, To work by day and guard them through the night.

Peering through spectacles, a cane in one hand, I walk through the flowery dale; I plod slowly, solemnly, as if I failed to see The changes Spring brought to the vale.

Indeed! Everything is exactly the same As it was two score years ago The twittering birds fill the skies with their songs, The trees are with blossoms aglow.

Again, little girls are prancing about, So are the boys with immature hips. The girls are singing this year’s newest songs That were written for older lips.

There is no advancement, no progress, no change, All moves in the same slow gear; I fear it is we, who grow older with time, Who get wiser from year to year.