Set up your golden altar In Parthenons in every village and shire. The crucifix and psalter, The ikons and the toys of vain desire We cast into the fire. We keep the lover Jesus, for his hope, His humanism and his flaming zeal. He will approach your altar, he will kneel At last before you, for the horoscope Of life misread in youth And youthful dreams and faith. Goddess! our globe that hungers for the truth Between the roar of life, silence of death Cannot be stayed or cowed. But, oh, descend First to our soil, Atlantis, and befriend. Make us a light across the fathomless sea Of centuries to be, Even as Athens is, divinity! AT SAGAMORE HILL All things proceed as though the stage were set For acts arranged. I have not learned the part, The day enacts itself. I take the tube, Find daylight at Jamaica, know the place Through some rehearsal, all the country know Which glides along the window, is not seen For definite memory. At Oyster Bay A taxi stands in readiness; in a trice We circle strips of water, slopes of hills, Climb where a granite wall supports a hill, A mass of blossoms, ripening berries, too, And enter at a gate, go up a drive, Shadowed by larches, cedars, silver willows. This taxi just ahead is in the play, Is here in life as I had seen it in The crystal of prevision, reaches first The porte cochere. This moment from the door Comes Roosevelt, and greets the man who leaves The taxi just ahead, then waits for me, Puts a strong hand that softens into mine, And says, O, this is bully! We go in. He leaves my antecessor in a room Somewhere along the hall, and comes to me Who wait him in the roomy library. How are those lovely daughters? Oh, by George! I thought I might forget their names, I know-- It's Madeline and Marcia. Yes, you know Corinne adores the picture which you sent Of Madeline--your boy, too? In the war! That's bully--tea is coming--we must talk, I have five hundred things to ask you--set The tea things on this table, Anna--now, Do you take sugar, lemon? O, you smoke! I'll give you a cigar.