Beyond The Sunset

Ere dawn of that grey hero did I read- Hard Ulysses, whose oars Followed the sunset and the winds that lead Time's galleys to the shores Of demigod and siren, and I said: 'Whose was the Hand that led, And in what faith did those intrepid men Fare forth on waters wide, Whose western foam they should not cross again? What hunger and what pride Were at the helm? Surely their hearts were great And deep their trust in Fate; For they went not as we, Guarded and buttressed from the hostile sea. For they had but their arms, A width of oak, and stronger thews than ours To brave the ocean powers And all the deep's mysterious alarms. What bulwark walled Ulysses from the wave? What engines from the reef and tempest, save The piston and the staunchions of his heart? Aye! and a thing apart, A thing our weaker flesh and wiser brain Have lost, or slowly lose—the old-time trust In One whose angels sway the huricanes, And whose designs make swift the mortal dust! They had the gods, but sought for realms unknown, But we have overthrown Old faiths and old illusions—on our charts Each isle of earth is shown, But no eternal harbor for our hearts.' And still our old men fare into the West, And still the timeless quest Of happiness awaits us, and we go On paths they did not know— Those men whose names are as a trumpet-blast From out the armored Past. To them the deep was as infinity, Lies sounded and familiar, and our rule Is over empires that the child at school Must learn by name, but which old Ulysses Held buried in his faith's wide mysteries. Aye! we have sought and found, but did not find Something the ancient mind Found greater than our engines and our charts— A trust that old-world hearts Found equal to the tempest and the wave,— Something the western wind Whispered to spirits harborless and brave, And sang on oceans wide: 'Fear not, for I the god am at thy side I' And now as men go forth To islands of the Orient and North, Fended and sheltered from the sea's alarms, Something perhaps they lose—~ A sense of mighty Arms That shield and shadow and, in some wise, use Our journeys to a purpose not our own. And I have dreamt I heard from the unknown A voice from past our years, A quiet voice that saith: 'Thou, man, dost still thy fears, And dare the sea's broad ways of toil and death And put thy faith in keels thy strength hath planned And charts thy captains read. Yea, the great deep is spanned And all earth's forces broken to thy need:' Me only, child of dust, Thou wilt no longer trust!'