They have heaped the fields with slaughter: their sin defiles the day.
They have laid on the weak sore burdens, on the just, their whips and ban:
For a handful of crimsoned silver they have kissed the Son of Man.
Roll back the scroll of the heavens; from out of the womb of birth
Come forth new heavens untainted; come forth, renewed, the Earth!"
MARQUETTE ON THE SHORES OF THE
MISSISSIPPI
On seeing the original manuscript map of the Mississippi River by its discoverer, Father Marquette
By John Jerome Rooney
Here, in the midnight of the solemn wood,
He heard a roar as of a mighty wind,—
The onward rush of waters unconfined
Trampling in legions thro' the solitude.
Then lo! before him swept the conquering flood,
Free as the freedom of the truth-strong mind
Which hills of Doubt could neither hide nor bind,
Which, all in vain, the valley mounds withstood!
With glowing eye he saw the prancing tide
With yellow mane rush onward thro' the night
Into the vastness he had never trod:
Nor dreamt of conquest of that kingdom wide
As down the flood his spirit took its flight
Seeking the long-lost children of his God!
