V

Hath she too long dwelt dream-bound in the world of love,

Unconscious of the sterner throes,

The more austere, impersonal, wide faith,

The urge that drives Christs to the cross

Not for the love of one beloved,

But for the love of all?

If so, she wakes!

Wakes and demands a share in all man's bolder destinies,

The high, audacious ventures of the soul

That thinks to scale the bastioned slopes

And strike stark Chaos from his throne.

We still stand in the dawn of time.

Not meanly let us stand nor shaken with low doubts!

For there beyond the verge and margin of gray cloud

The future thrills with promise

And the skies are tremulous with golden light;—

She too would share those victories,

Comrade, and more than comrade;—

New times, new needs confront us now;

We must evolve new powers

To battle with;—

We must go forward now together,

Or perchance we fail!