EARTH'S MESSIAHS.
At how rare intervals across the years,
Fall'n by some miracle upon the earth,
By some divine miscarriage brought to birth
With their conspiring fellows,—there appears
A great man full of pity and of wrath,
To stoop above the awful holocausts
Of blundering mortals, the iconoclasts
Of hearts, and show what grace compassion hath!
Ay, they would seem of a diviner race,
Ay, they would seem of a clairvoyant breed,
Breasting the shocks of passion without heed,
Led by some higher certitude they trace
Their way impatiently across the dark,
And tread with confidence the blank unknown,
Creating footing there where path is none,
Leading men surely towards an unseen mark.
When shall we see their like on earth again,
Blown like the seed of some celestial flower
By tempests from the very skirts of Power
Across the interplanetary main;
Living and loving air and light and sod,
Finding in the dark universe a home,
Transfiguring all they touch where'er they roam,
And hearing close at hand the warm heartbeat of God?
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