Sing for the guardians of girls, The saviours of modern Madonnas-- Custodians of wells unpolluted For the renewal of men! Sing for the wielders of axe and the hammer; The gods of the crowbar and shovel; For those who go down to the sea in ships, Having their business in the great waters; For those who find out a path Which no fowl knoweth, Which the lion's whelps tread not-- The veins of the silver and gold, Of the carbonized sunlight and laughter! Sing for the prophets of labour, Rebukers of Ahab greedy of gardens Delved and possessed by another! Sing for the women who claim the lost title: "Comrade and equal of Man," Women who strike from their sisters Æonian fetters of custom, Bidding them stand and be free from their masters! Sing for the priests of the Lord's House, Who lift up the vessels thereof with clean hands, Knowing great Christ when He cometh, Truthful interpreters of signs and of omens! Sing for the harpers on highways Who make the world dance to their song, Turning the laughter of leaves into words! Brother, this the world wonderful Transcends Valhalla. Everywhere falls the ambrosial Smell of the garlands immortal; Everywhere tones of an infinite Iris-bow, bent for achievement, Pass the promise of Noah-- Ours not promise, ours fulfilment! This is the day of the ages, Heaven is here for the claiming-- Now! Now! Rise up and take it. "I said ye are gods"--? I say you are gods-- Yea, you are more than God's Image, You are God's Self! worship none other. Have done with your idols, The old gods, the dead gods! Blow up the trumpets-- Beat on the cymbals-- Strike on the harpstrings-- Let sound the psalteries-- Thunder the tabour! Shout with the Levites, White-robed and ready, Round the old world-walls! Shatter with sound Jericho! Jericho! Topple its bastions, Bloodstained and brutal, Down to the dust Drifting to deserts Remote and forgotten! Bring in the New Year, Brothers, my brothers-- Proclaim this the Sabbath! THE OPTIMIST "There is no evil anywhere"-- Said I unto the priest Who answered: "Life is cursed with care, Sin makes of man a beast!" "Care is not any curse"--I cried, "To fail is not to sin." "Wherefore upon the rood Christ died, If not our souls to win?" "Because a hero must face death, If death be in the way." And as I paused to take my breath, The priest began to say: "Son, you forget how Adam fell, Losing his high estate; And so God doomed him unto hell, Save for the Master's fate." "Yes, I forget--and gladly too-- That ancient Hebrew tale: How God began a thing to do-- Can the Eternal fail? "Can He who rides upon the storm, Who breathes and, lo, the stars! Whose thought begets a flower-form, With leaves for avatars;