And I saw Chicago rising in the ten years to come, Ere I passed in the fifties to the peace of the dead. Now where is there a city in the whole of Christendom Where such roar is and such walking is around a grave’s head? Oh, ’twas fighting as a soldier in the wars of the land; And ’twas giving and living to make the people free That kept me past a century an oak to withstand The heat and snow and weevils that break down a tree. There were other dead around me with a slab to mark When they heaped the final pillow for my honor’s meed. Now the lovers stopping curiously in Lincoln Park Look at the bronze tablet on my boulder and read: How I fought at Long Island and fought at White Plains-- What does it mean you lovers who scan what is scored On the tablet on my boulder?--Why the task remains To make the torch brighter and to keep clean the sword. Go labor for the future. Go make the cities great: There are other realms to conquer for the men to be. For it’s toil and it’s courage that solve a soul’s fate, And it’s giving and living that make a people free! V HANGING THE PICTURE Before you pull that string, And strip away that veil, I rise to enter my objection To the hanging of Archer Price’s picture Here in this hall.... For I’ll venture the artist has tried to soften The vain and shifty look of the eyes; And the face that looked like a harte-beest’s, And the rabbit mouth that looked like a horse’s, Lipping oats from a leather bag! I knew this man in ’28 When he drifted here from Maine, he said. And now it’s eighteen ninety two: This year is sacred to conquerors, Discoverers and soldiers. And I object to the hanging of pictures Of men who trade while others fight, And follow the army to get the loot, And rest till other men are tired, Then grab the spoils while the workers sleep. I would like to burn all masks, And padded shoes, And smash all dark lanterns. And take all friends of the people And brand them with the letter “B,” Which means “Betrayer.” And I would like to enter the Kingdom of Heaven Just to see the publicans who will be there, And the Archer Prices who will not be there! You call him a great man, And a prophetic man, And a leader, and a savior, And a man who was wise in an evil world Of tangled interests and selfish power, And who knew the art of compromise, And how to get half when you can’t get all! You haven’t probed deep enough in this man. For he was great as the condor is great. And prophetic as the wolf is prophetic. And a leader as the jackal is a leader. And his wisdom was that of the python, Which will swallow a hare when no pig is at hand!