The Silken Tassel/The Far-off Man
The Far-Off Man
How long shall the earth be made a heartless stage for warring nations?
How long shall the e’er-increasing hunger for high power prevail?
How long shall the grinding teeth of human greediness torment us?
How long shall the bark of knowledge yet in darkest oceans sail?
When shall be this hell-hung shadow lifted from the eyes of ages?
Shall the hope of Prophets always tumble in despair and wail?
How long shall the e’er-increasing hunger for high power prevail?
How long shall the grinding teeth of human greediness torment us?
How long shall the bark of knowledge yet in darkest oceans sail?
When shall be this hell-hung shadow lifted from the eyes of ages?
Shall the hope of Prophets always tumble in despair and wail?
Man is still the speaking brute with peeping claws within his bosom,
Man is still the houseless creature on the barren shores of Time;
Man is still the changing shadow of his Spirit moving onward,
Man is still the tiny ant that struggles in the heated slime:
Man is climbing yet the lower steps of Nature’s glorious ladder,
Man is far from human Spring, and Earth has not yet reached her prime.
Man is still the houseless creature on the barren shores of Time;
Man is still the changing shadow of his Spirit moving onward,
Man is still the tiny ant that struggles in the heated slime:
Man is climbing yet the lower steps of Nature’s glorious ladder,
Man is far from human Spring, and Earth has not yet reached her prime.
Yet this hissing red-hot iron will some lovelier form be given,
Yet within this seed is seen the tree, the flower and the fruit:
Yet this struggling streamlet has to pass through, by the hills and valleys,
Rocks and stones with weeping bubbles for a fuller-flooded route:
Yet through all these jarring notes a far-off richer music rises,
And a greater godly Man is springing from this earthly brute.
Yet within this seed is seen the tree, the flower and the fruit:
Yet this struggling streamlet has to pass through, by the hills and valleys,
Rocks and stones with weeping bubbles for a fuller-flooded route:
Yet through all these jarring notes a far-off richer music rises,
And a greater godly Man is springing from this earthly brute.
Every drop of blood that falls will turn itself to choicest ruby,
Every tear will shake and be a diamond shining on the way:
Every gloom will bloom in light and Earth will smile a glowing Heaven,
Man will be the perfect sum of Spirit and the clashing clay:
Man will rise the purest god of peace and bliss from out his ashes,
And this bud of Morn will open in the perfect flower of Day!
Every tear will shake and be a diamond shining on the way:
Every gloom will bloom in light and Earth will smile a glowing Heaven,
Man will be the perfect sum of Spirit and the clashing clay:
Man will rise the purest god of peace and bliss from out his ashes,
And this bud of Morn will open in the perfect flower of Day!