Night, and a bitter sky, and strange birds crying, <br /> The wan trees whisper and the winds make moan, <br />Here where in ultimate peace their bones are lying <br /> In gaunt waste places that they made their own, <br /> Beyond the ploughed lands where the corn is sown. <br /> <br />Death, and untrodden ways, and night before them, <br /> From sheltering homes and friendly hearths they came; <br />Far from the mouldering dust of those that bore them <br /> They rest in silence now and know no fame, <br /> No proud stone speaks, no waters lip the name. <br /> <br />Brave and undaunted hearts, eyes lit with laughter, <br /> Minds that outran the ancient doubts and fears, <br />They blazed the track for legions following after, <br /> And bared new treasure to the hungry years, <br /> Till spent with strife they sank amongst the spears. <br /> <br />Slow sinks the glowing flame and fades the ember, <br /> No bright star flickers and the woods are stark, <br />But still our children's children will remember <br /> The swift forerunners, bearers of the ark, <br /> Who lit the beacons in the uncharted dark. <br /> <br />Rich towns shall flourish on the hills that hold them, <br /> Bright dreams shall quicken from their wandering dust, <br />And till the end our reverent minds shall fold them <br /> In storied chambers free from moth and rust: <br /> The fealty pledged, the kingdom given in trust.<br /><br />Vance Palmer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-pathfinders/
