A century of time has gone. In a crystal sphere I see
A cavalcade of people in the halls of history,
A vast expanse of forestland, a fertile soil unsown.
A catacomb of buried fuel, a precipice of stone;
An Indian chieftain rowing down where singing waters flow --
A silent depth of poetry -- but that was long ago.
As fleeting years turn wheels of time, and nation pulses beat,
And mothers bear the witness of a country's winding-sheet
Of Pioneering stags that distant channels part;
And wisdom, though the ages, heals the aching in her heart
For the progress of tomorrow that her children prophesy --
With its laughter and its sorrow, as the flush of decades die.
And romantic-like the music rolls and spills from curving lips
Of the river to the mountain, like the sweet companionships
Of the settlers who enjoy it -- clarion tones to stars and sky --
Solving problems of tomorrow, as their ships of dream go by
In the shadows of still water, under trees that bow in prayer
In this land of love and plenty, on the vantage thoroughfare. |
|
With the miracle of thinking, and gigantic minds alert
To the treasure isle before them; with machines the could convert
Towering trees to nestling houses, stony fields to plots of grain,
Molten ore to bars of iron; strength and valor to sustain
Disappointments for endurance, greater heights for men to climb;
Whirling saws to mold the timber; muscles, brawn, to mine her coal;
River-rafts on water channels; passing years for great control;
Furnaces eclipsing darkness; wells of oil to spout and spray --
Colonades [sic] of their tomorrow built your temples of today.
This the miles of concrete highway, garden squares from street to street,
Neon lights, dynamic power, birdlike ships where skylines meet;
Rushing water turning turbines, walls of strength in bands of steel.
Utilizing river pressure; haven spots where forests kneel
Evermore to roofs of starlight, evermore to skies of blue --
Bringing pleasure after labor, homes for comfort -- friendships true.
Schools of learning and distinction, citizens of high degree,
Barristers of court and judgment, ministers of dignity.
Sanctuaries build for worship, educators fighting wrong;
Bells of triumph hailing singers, modern youth to catch the song
While the silent granite gravestones bear the sacred story yet,
Of her trees and mountains praying -- and their God did not forget. |