The Spirit of the Past.

No voice there spake of sorrow: 
They saw the noblest fall
With no repining murmur;
Stern Fate was lord of all. 
And when the loved ones perished,
One cry alone arose,
Waking the startled echoes,
“Vengeance upon our foes!”

The Spirit of the Present.

Grief dwells in France and England
For many a noble son;
Yet louder than the sorrow,
“Thy will, Oh God, be done!”
From desolate homes is rising
One prayer, “Let carnage cease! 
On friends and foes have mercy,
Oh Lord, and give us peace!”

The Spirit of the Past.

Then, every hearth was honoured
That sent its children forth,
To spread their country’s glory,
And gain her south or north. 
Then, little recked they numbers,
No band would ever fly,
But stern and resolute they stood
To conquer or to die.

The Spirit of the Present.

And now from France and England
Their dearest and their best
Go forth to succour freedom,
To help the much oppressed;
Now, let the far-off Future
And Past bow down to-day,
Before the few young hearts that hold
Whole armaments at bay.

The Spirit of the Past.

Then, each one strove for honour,
Each for a deathless name;
Love, home, rest, joy, were offered
As sacrifice to Fame. 
They longed that in far ages
Their deeds might still be told,
And distant times and nations
Their names in honour hold.

The Spirit of the Present.

Though nursed by such old legends,
Our heroes of to-day
Go cheerfully to battle
As children go to play;
They gaze with awe and wonder
On your great names of pride,
Unconscious that their own will shine
In glory side by side!

Day dawned; and as the Spirits passed away,
Methought I saw, in the dim morning grey,
The Past’s bright diadem had paled before
The starry crown the glorious Present wore.

VERSE:  A LITTLE LONGER

A little longer yet—­a little longer,
Shall violets bloom for thee, and sweet birds sing;
And the lime branches where soft winds are blowing,
Shall murmur the sweet promise of the Spring!

A little longer yet—­a little longer,
Thou shalt behold the quiet of the morn;
While tender grasses and awakening flowers
Send up a golden mist to greet the dawn!

A little longer yet—­a little longer,
The tenderness of twilight shall be thine,
The rosy clouds that float o’er dying daylight,
Nor fade till trembling stars begin to shine.

A little longer yet—­a little longer,
Shall starry night be beautiful for thee;
And the cold moon shall look through the blue silence,
Flooding her silver path upon the sea.

A little longer yet—­a little longer,
Life shall be thine; life with its power to will;
Life with its strength to bear, to love, to conquer,
Bringing its thousand joys thy heart to fill.