Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/65

Have risen; the words they spake can never die:
They outlive empire; they are made the seed
Of resurrection; heaven shall harvest them."
⁠Almost that other believed what most he would.
Swift lights of love went o'er his stormy eyes,
And far within their fountains shone the soul,
Like some great spirit struggling to be born:
⁠"And art thou of the bright world-savers? they
Who in the beauty of the Christ-flame die,
The last earth-fire ascending the lone skies,
In man's great God-dream risen wonderful,
The Star of noble nations"—his straight gaze
Swam warm and tender, piercingly he looked
Upon the Roamer's eyes, searching far in,
As if those orbs pale revelation held,
And he unconscious told what there he saw:
⁠"Far on the track of time I see arisen
Ten thousand altars stained with innocence,
Nor herds and flocks and captives in their chains,
Nor men and women in their frenzied woe,
The common victims only; hither bring,
O Race of men, thy choicest; heaven cries 'Kill';
Shut, shut thy ears lest thou perchance should hear,
Above the dying sounds of time far-borne,
The awful accents roam the unbordered deep,

'My Father, why hast thou forsaken me!'