These things shall be! A loftier race Than e'er the world has known, shall rise With flame of freedom in their souls, And light of science in their eyes. They shall be gentle, brave, and strong, Nation with nation, land with land Inarmed shall live as comrades free; In every heart and brain shall throb The pulse of one fraternity. They shall be simple in their homes, And splendid in their public ways, Filling the mansions of the state With music and with hymns of praise. Woman shall be man's mate and peer High friendship, hitherto unknown, Or by great poets half divined, Shall burn, a steadfast star, within The calm clear ether of the mind. Man shall love man with heart as pure And fervent as the young-eyed joys Who chant their heavenly songs before God's face, with undiscordant noise. New arts shall bloom, of loftier mould; And mightier music thrill the skies; And every life shall be a song, When all the earth is paradise. There shall be no more sin, no shame, Though pain and passion may not die; For man shall be at one with God In bonds of firm necessity. These things (they are no dream) shall be For happier men when we are gone: Those golden days for them shall dawn, Transcending aught we gaze upon. ELLEN MACKAY HUTCHINSON. [U. s. A.] A CRY FROM THE SHORE. COME down, ye graybeard mariners, Unto the wasting shore! - the gods The morning winds are up, Bid me to dream no more. Come, tell me whither I must sail What peril there may be, Before I take my life in hand And venture out to sea! "We may not tell thee where to sail, Each sailor soundeth for himself, What we have learned is ours alone; Come back, O ghostly mariners, |