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Men see at last the race hath many a Saviour,—

They see the royal majesty of love,— They see, too, the magnificent behavior That blends the daring eagle with the dove. No law shall fail. Nor sanction truculence and lust of blood, But give the sturdy villain for his good The stripes that heal—

Over the fallen thrones Of intellectual empires passed away,—

Over the mossy bones Of Superstition's weird and sombre sway, I see the sun of human glory rise. I see the Spartan mothers

Lead forth their stately sons,— I see a thousand Howards,

And a hundred Washingtons. From many a creed-bound shore The human surges roar "Men shall be bondmen never, never more," And freedom's clarion wakes the golden skies.

THE END.

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