 | Farm legends |  |
125
THE CABLE.
Peal the clanging bell!
Thunder the brazen gun!
Over the earth in triumph swell
The notes of a victory won!
Not over field and ditch and corse;
Not by musketry, cannon, and horse;
Not by skirmishes bloody and fell;
Not by the whiz of shot and shell;
But men of will and thought,
Men of muscle and brain,
Have planned, and toiled, and suffered, and fought,
And conquered the raging main!
Thunder the brazen gun!
Over the earth in triumph swell
The notes of a victory won!
Not over field and ditch and corse;
Not by musketry, cannon, and horse;
Not by skirmishes bloody and fell;
Not by the whiz of shot and shell;
But men of will and thought,
Men of muscle and brain,
Have planned, and toiled, and suffered, and fought,
And conquered the raging main!
Far from an Eastern shore,
By the second ark is brought,
Spanning the dusky distance o'er,
A line of glowing thought!
Dashing through ripples and torrents and waves,
Courting the gloom of mariners' graves;
Hastily threading the ocean aisles,
And bringing to naught three thousand miles!
For men of will and thought,
Men of muscle and brain,
Have planned, and toiled, and suffered, and fought,
And conquered the raging main!
By the second ark is brought,
Spanning the dusky distance o'er,
A line of glowing thought!
Dashing through ripples and torrents and waves,
Courting the gloom of mariners' graves;
Hastily threading the ocean aisles,
And bringing to naught three thousand miles!
For men of will and thought,
Men of muscle and brain,
Have planned, and toiled, and suffered, and fought,
And conquered the raging main!
Time in his car, indeed,
Flits fast from place to place;
But restless Thought has dared his speed,
And Thought has won the race!
Man is as naught in Time's fierce clasp,
But Thought can escape his greedy grasp;
And Time shall have perished, by-and-by,
But the soul of Thought can never die!
Thunder the guns as you ought!
Well may the church-bells chime!
For man, with the Heaven-given sword of Thought,
Has conquered the Scythe of Time!
Flits fast from place to place;
But restless Thought has dared his speed,
And Thought has won the race!
126
But Thought can escape his greedy grasp;
And Time shall have perished, by-and-by,
But the soul of Thought can never die!
Thunder the guns as you ought!
Well may the church-bells chime!
For man, with the Heaven-given sword of Thought,
Has conquered the Scythe of Time!
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