Jacob GoodpastureWhen Fort Sumter fell and the war cameI cried out in bitterness of soul:“O glorious republic now no more!”When they buried my soldier sonTo the call of trumpets and the sound of drumsMy heart broke beneath the weightOf eighty years, and I cried:“Oh, son who died in a cause unjust!In the strife of Freedom slain!”And I crept here under the grass.And now from the battlements of time, behold:Thrice thirty million souls being bound togetherIn the love of larger truth,Rapt in the expectation of the birthOf a new Beauty,Sprung from Brotherhood and Wisdom.I with eyes of spirit see the TransfigurationBefore you see it.But ye infinite brood of golden eagles nesting ever higher,Wheeling ever higher, the sun-light wooingOf lofty places of Thought,Forgive the blindness of the departed owl.
When Fort Sumter fell and the war cameI cried out in bitterness of soul:“O glorious republic now no more!”When they buried my soldier sonTo the call of trumpets and the sound of drumsMy heart broke beneath the weightOf eighty years, and I cried:“Oh, son who died in a cause unjust!In the strife of Freedom slain!”And I crept here under the grass.And now from the battlements of time, behold:Thrice thirty million souls being bound togetherIn the love of larger truth,Rapt in the expectation of the birthOf a new Beauty,Sprung from Brotherhood and Wisdom.I with eyes of spirit see the TransfigurationBefore you see it.But ye infinite brood of golden eagles nesting ever higher,Wheeling ever higher, the sun-light wooingOf lofty places of Thought,Forgive the blindness of the departed owl.