Onward

BENEATH this starry arch,
Nought resteth or is still ;
But all things hold their march,
As if by one great will.
Moves one, move all ;
Hark to the foot-fall !
On, on, for ever.

Yon sheaves were once but seed ;
Will ripens into deed ;
As cave-drops swell the streams,
Day-thoughts feed mighty dreams ;
And sorrow tracketh wrong,
As echo follows song.
On, on, for ever.

By night, like stars on high,
The hours reveal their train;
They whisper and go by ;
I never watch in vain.
Moves one, move all ;
Hark to the foot-fall !
On, on, for ever.

They pass the cradle head,
And there a promise shed ;
They pass the moist new grave,
And bid rank verdure wave ;
They bear through every clime
The harvest of all time.
On, on, for ever.