Page:Songs from Vagabondia (1897).djvu/63

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Sohrab, Rameses, Roland,Ramoth, Napoleon, Tyre,And the Romeward Huns of Attila—Alas, for their desire!
By April and by autumnThey perish in their pride,And still they close and gatherOut of the mountain-side.
The tanned and tameless childrenOf the wild elder earth,With stature of the northlights,They have the stars for girth.
There’s not a hand to stay them,Of all the hearts that brave;No captain to undo them.No cunning to off-stave.
Yet fear thou not! If haplyThou be the kingly one,They’ll set thee in their vanguard To lead them round the sun.

IN THE WORKSHOP.

Once in the Workshop, ages ago,The clay was wet and the fire was low.
And He who was bent on fashioning manMoulded a shape from a clod,And put the loyal heart therein;While another stood watching by.

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