Vii

A silent man whom, strangely, fate Made doubly silent ere he died, His speechless spirit rules us still; And that deep spell of influence mute, The majesty of dauntless will That wielded hosts and saved the State, Seems through the mist our spirits yet to thrill. His heart is with us! From the root Of toil and pain and brave endurance Has sprung at last the perfect fruit, The treasure of a rich assurance That men who nobly work and live A greater gift than life may give; Yielding a promise for all time, Which other men of newer date Surely redeem in deeds sublime. Forerunner of a valiant race, His voiceless spirit still reminds us Of ever-waiting, silent duty: The bond of faith wherewith he binds us Shall hold us ready hour by hour To serve the sacred, guiding power Whene'er it calls, where'er it finds us, With loyalty that, like a folded flower, Blooms at a touch in proud, full-circled beauty.