They have dreamed as young men dream Of glory, love and power; They have hoped as youth will hope Of life’s sun-minted hour. They have seen as other saw Their bubbles burst in air, And they have learned to live it down As though they did not care.
Through the moil and the gloom they have issued
To the steps of the upwinding hill,
Where the sweet, dulcet pipes of tomorrow
In their preluding rhapsodies trill.
With a thud comes a stir in the bosom,
As there steals on the sight from afar,
Through a break of a cloud’s coiling shadow
The gleam of a bright morning star!