Incense and Splendor haunt me as I go. br Though my good works have been, alas, too few, br Though I do naught, High Heaven comes down to me, br And future ages pass in tall review. br I see the years to come as armies vast, br Stalking tremendous through the fields of time. br MAN is unborn. To-morrow he is born, br Flame-like to hover o’er the moil and grime, br Striving, aspiring till the shame is gone, br Sowing a million flowers, where now we mourn— br Laying new, precious pavements with a song, br Founding new shrines, the good streets to adorn. br I have seen lovers by those new-built walls br Clothed like the dawn in orange, gold and red. br Eyes flashing forth the glory-light of love br Under the wreaths that crowned each royal head. br Life was made greater by their sweetheart prayers. br Passion was turned to civic strength that day— br Piling the marbles, making fairer domes br With zeal that else had burned bright youth away.