The Poet Captain

They called him their king, their leader of men, and he led them well
For one bright year- and he vanquished their foe,
Breaking more battles than bards may tell,
Warring victoriously, — till the heart spake low
And said — Is it thus? Do not these things pass? What things abide?
They are but the birds from the ocean, the waves of the tide;
And thou art naught beside, — grass and a form of clay.
And said — The Ligurian fought in his day —
In vain, in vain! Rome triumphs. He left his friends to the fight,
And their victory passed away,
And he like a star that flames and falls in the night.
But after another year they came to him again,
And said — Lead us forth again. Come with us again.
But still he answered them — You strive against fate, in vain
They said — Our race is old. We would not have it pass.
Ere Rome began we are, a gentle people of old,
Unsavage when all were wild.
And he — How Egypt was old in the days that were old,
Yet is passed, and we pass.
They said — We shall have striven, unreconciled.
And he went with them again, and they conquered again.

Till the same bare season closed his unquiet heart
To all but sorrow of life — This is in vain! Of yore
Lo, Egypt was, and all things do depart,
This is in vain ! And he fought no more.

He conned the poems that poets had made in other days-
And he loved the past that he could pity and praise.
And he fought no more, living in solitude,
Till they came and called him back to the multitude,
Saying — Our olden speech and our old manners die.
He went again, and they raised his banner on high :
Came Victory, eagle-formed, with wings wide flung,
As with them a while he fought, with never a weary thought, and with never a sigh,
That their children might have again their manners and ancient tongue.

But again the sorrow of life whispered to his soul
And said — O little soul, striving to little goal!
Here is a finite world where all things change and change!
And said — In Mexico a people strange

Loved their manners and speech long ago when the world was young !
Their speech is silent long — What of it now? — Silent and dead
Their manners forgotten, and all but their memory sped !
And said — What matter? Heart will die and tongue;
Or if they live again they live in a place that is naught,
With other language, other custom, different thought.
He left them again to their fight, and no more for him they sought.

But they chose for leader a stern sure man
That looked not back on the waste of story :
For his country he fought in the battle's van,
And he won her peace and he won her glory.