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Old Tubal Cain was a man of might,
In the days when earth was young;
The strokes of his hammer rung: 5 And he lifted high his brawny hand
On the iron glowing clear,
spear. And he sang: “Hurrah for my handiwork!
Hurrah for the Spear and the Sword ! Hurrah for the hand that shall wield them well,
For he shall be king and lord !”
To Tubal Cain came many a one,
As he wrought by his roaring fire, 15 And each one prayed for a strong steel blade
As the crown of his desire.
Till they shouted loud for glee,
Who hath given us strength anew!
Hurrah for the smith, hurrah for the fire,
And hurrah for the metal true!”
But a sudden change came o'er his heart,
Ere the setting of the sun,
For the evil he had done;
Made war upon their kind;
In their lust for carnage blind.
Or that skill of mine should plan,
Is to slay their fellow-man!”
And for many a day old Tubal Cain
Sat brooding o'er his woe;
And his furnace smoldered low.
And a bright, courageous eye,
While the quick flames mounted high.
As the red sparks lit the air; “Not alone for the blade was the bright steel made,” — 25
As he fashioned the first plowshare.
And men, taught wisdom from the past,
In friendship joined their hands, Hung the sword in the hall, the spear on the wall,
And plowed the willing lands;
Our stanch good friend is he;
To him our praise shall be.
Or a tyrant would be lord,
We'll not forget the sword.”
ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH
Say not, the Struggle Naught Availeth "
Say not, the struggle naught availeth,
The labor and the wounds are vain,
And as things have been they remain.
If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke concealed,
And, but for you, possess the field.
"WHERE LIES THE LAND?"
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light,
But westward, look, the land is bright.
“ Where Lies the Land ? "
Where lies the land to which the ship would go ?
On sunny noons upon the deck's smooth face,
And where the land she travels from ? Away,
“Oh, may I join the Choir Invisible'
Oh, may I join the choir invisible
In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, 10 And with their mild persistence urge men's search
To vaster issues. So to live is heaven:
With growing sway the growing life of man. 15 So we inherit that sweet purity
For which we struggled, failed, and agonized
A vicious parent shaming still its child,