The Star in the West

THE world has lost its old content;
With girded loins and nervous hands
The age leads on; her sharp commands
Ring over plains and table-lands
Of this wide watered continent.
Who calls the poor in spirit blest ?
The rich in spirit win their own.
Hark to the war’s shrill bugles blown!
Look to the rippling banner thrown
Outstreaming in the west!
Who says the meek inherit here?
The earth is theirs whose hands are strong.
Work for the night comes, art is long.
Onward the keen, stern faces throng,
Quick-eyed, intent, sincere.
Our life has lost its ancient rest,
The pale blue flower of peace that grows
By cottage wall and garden close.
Star in the east, ah, whither goes
This star that leads us west ?