 | The ghost's entry and other poems |  |
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THE END OF THE JOURNEY
Our new-plucked flowers to the world's full garland, friends!—
At home, with all best paths, his long Path ends.
At home, with all best paths, his long Path ends.
Oh, such a Path no man e'er went before,
Earth-smiting king, or patriot conqueror!
Earth-smiting king, or patriot conqueror!
The sun's long path—the path it ever came
World-lighting, this his Pathway lit by fame.
World-lighting, this his Pathway lit by fame.
Far toward its native East the sun's great way
He went, with some new land each new-risen day.
He went, with some new land each new-risen day.
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At each land's threshold, as he crossed it, kings,
Warriors, and statesmen gave him welcomings.
Warriors, and statesmen gave him welcomings.
Crowned princes met him crownless, awed to see
In this still man the Great Land's Majesty;
In this still man the Great Land's Majesty;
O'er lands, o'er seas, they saw, through him confest,
The Banded Stars that quicken all the West.
The Banded Stars that quicken all the West.
A hero's honours?—yes, a hero's, too:
But in the man the Many-in-One they knew.
But in the man the Many-in-One they knew.
The sun's long path—the path it ever came
World-lighting, this is Pathway lit by fame.
World-lighting, this is Pathway lit by fame.
Toward the sun's native East, till the East was West,
And the sun rose across the roofs loved best!
And the sun rose across the roofs loved best!
—Hark, with the cannon's thunder, ‘He is come,’
Mingle the martial trumpet, quickening drum,—
Mingle the martial trumpet, quickening drum,—
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A warrior's welcome! ... Let the war-sound cease;
The warrior's welcome now be rest and peace.
The warrior's welcome now be rest and peace.
The laurel, meed of mighty conqueror,
Long since we proudly gave, he justly wore.
Long since we proudly gave, he justly wore.
Put up the sword, well-sheathed; upon the wall
The bow unstrung leave, wind-swayed, in the hall.
The bow unstrung leave, wind-swayed, in the hall.
Long may he live, unvexed by clamorous cares,
Breathed on by blessing of home-breathing airs,—
Breathed on by blessing of home-breathing airs,—
Live long, grow old, like him our First of Men,
Or that plain Roman soldier-citizen.
Or that plain Roman soldier-citizen.
Our new-plucked flowers to the world's full garland, friends!—
At home, with all best paths, his long Path ends.
At home, with all best paths, his long Path ends.
Written by request for the occasion of General Grant's reception at Philadelphia on his return from travel around the world. It may be recalled that General Grant was doubtless the first man so distinguished personally and as the recognised representative of a great country, who, under circumstances made possible by the telegraph, railway, steamship, and modern newspaper, ever made a journey around the world.
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