The Poem of the Universe

The Poem of the Universe
Nor rhythm has nor rhyme;
Some God recites the wondrous song
A stanza at a time.

Great deeds is he foredoom'd to do,
With Freedom's flag unfurl'd,
Who hears the echo of that song
As it goes down the world.

Great words he is compell'd to speak
Who understands the song;
He rises up like fifty men,
Fifty good men and strong.

A stanza for each century:
Now heed it, all who can!
Who hears it, he, and only he,
Is the elected man.