Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns.

Till the war drum throbbed no longer and the battle flags were furled In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world.

For I dipp’d into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be; Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails, Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales; Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rain’d a ghastly dew From the nations’ airy navies grappling in the central blue.

With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter’s heart.

But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honor feels.

This is the truth the poet sings, That a sorrow’s crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.

Like a dog, he hunts in dreams.

In the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.

He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.