HE 
 
 B^iEING OF BONDS 
 
 Artli 
 
 lUi xjav 
 
 Ison Ficke 
 
S 3511 
 
 Class 
 
 Book llb ' bl 
 
 Gop)iightN". 
 
 \^(0 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
THE BREAKING 
 OF BONDS 
 
 A DRAMA OF THE SOCIAL UNREST 
 
 BY 
 
 ARTHUR DAVISON FICKE 
 
 Author of " The Earth Passion," " The 
 Happy Princess," "From the Isles." 
 
 BOSTON 
 SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 
 
 1910 
 
Copyright, 1910 
 Sherman, French & Companv 
 
 
 •GLa:373(;s9 
 
0^ 
 
 TO 
 
 MY FATHER AND MOTHER 
 
preface 
 
 ..." Hark, the rushing snow ! 
 The sun-awakened avalanche! whose mass, 
 Thrice sifted by the storm, had gathered there 
 Flake after flake, in heaven-defying minds 
 As thought by thought is piled, till some great 
 
 truth 
 Is loosened, and the nations echo round, 
 Shaken to their roots, as do the mountains now." 
 
 SHELLEY, "PROMETHEUS UNBOUND^' 
 
 " Enter : here, also, there are Gods." 
 
 HERACLITUS 
 
 No theme presents itself to a writer of our 
 generation with more compelling interest or 
 greater difficulties of treatment than does the 
 story of modern social unrest. Before our eyes 
 is being enacted, slowly in time but very surely 
 in effect, one of the critical upheavals in the 
 history of civilization; yet because of the im- 
 mensity of this movement's scope and the scat- 
 tered nature of its manifestations, we seem at 
 a loss to embody in our literature more than 
 mere episodes of either its present condition or 
 its future consequences. Economic treatises 
 and partisan tracts we have ; but scarcely a sin- 
 gle imaginative work of our time has attempted 
 to comprehend and express the vital spirit of 
 this change in any such measure as, for in- 
 
preface 
 
 stance, Shelley expressed the burst toward lib- 
 erty for mankind which marked the history and 
 the thought of the beginning of the last cen- 
 tury. Such an undertaking is one of large pro- 
 portions, and large difficulties. It appalls even 
 while it fascinates. I have many misgivings as 
 I make the attempt ; yet I am emboldened by 
 the feeling that this region of modern life cries 
 aloud for its preemptors ; and that no writer 
 need fear that he is trespassing on fields which 
 should have been left for a greater than he: 
 since we may be sure that it will be the task of 
 many men, gradually, to create the epic of the 
 future social order. 
 
 An explanation seems to me desirable at the 
 beginning of this undertaking; lest at the end 
 the reader, having expected too much, should 
 reproach me for failing to throw any useful or 
 practical light on those bitter relations of class- 
 hostility which are today around us on all sides, 
 or to answer the many questions that arise and 
 possess the mind of everyone who dwells much 
 on these things. Let me suggest at once that 
 this poem portrays a condition and one of its 
 possible developments ; it does not attempt to 
 provide remedies. Poetical imagination must 
 fail altogether if it descends from its natural 
 sphere and assumes work which is properly that 
 of economic or political experience. Nor can it 
 
preface 
 
 usefully urge its own peculiar intuitions as 
 things of practical validity. Though a hun- 
 dred Platos should relate their precious visions 
 of Utopian Republics, such projects could 
 never influence directly the machinery of legis- 
 lation or the facts of social progress. These 
 works fertilize the mind of the legislator; they 
 do not themselves bring forth laws or systems. 
 As stimulating types, and as types only, are 
 they efficacious. To apply their theories prac- 
 tically would mean disorganization of govern- 
 ment. All this we know well. Yet we must 
 recognize this distinction: — there is no weak- 
 ness or evil inherent in Utopianism; it be- 
 comes weak and evil only when it off^ers itself 
 for immediate practical acceptance. Power- 
 fully impressed by these limitations, I have ex- 
 pressed in the following pages neither a politi- 
 cal plan, nor a carefully rounded and utterly 
 impossible scheme urged on the world for adop- 
 tion. I have merely taken as a beginning the 
 social hostility of today; I have transported it 
 into the world of imagination ; and there let the 
 dramatic forces inherent in the situation work 
 out what I conceived to be their natural equilib- 
 rium. 
 
 Nor shall there be any attempt at prophesy- 
 ing in these pages. Though I depict one line of 
 events, I am aware that the future holds a 
 
preface 
 
 thousand other equally possible lines. To ex- 
 press a force, however, jou must embody it in an 
 action. By so doing, you specifically define, 
 and hence narrow the force; but you also reveal 
 it. Writing, at bottom, of forces, I have been 
 obliged to clothe them in imaginary events, — 
 not as practical truth, but as possibilities of 
 truth. When Shakespere brings it about that 
 Othello kills Desdemona, he writes truth; be- 
 cause that Othello should kill Desdemona is a 
 logical dramatic possibility. Shakespere does 
 not mean to advance the proposition that every 
 Othello in real life will act similarly ; on the con- 
 trary, the actual facts may happen to turn out 
 quite differently. It is very possible that the 
 hero will cool off, see reason, and live happily 
 ever after with his faithful spouse. Still, be- 
 yond and above this contradiction of reality, the 
 murder of Desdemona would be poetically true, 
 in that it formulates justly and finely one of 
 the many possibilities of the situation, and ex- 
 presses, as nothing else could, the potentialities 
 of the nature of the Moor. For art can be true 
 without being literal. So Aristotle, in distin- 
 guishing between the poet and the historian, 
 uses words which may serve equally well to set 
 the poet apart from the prophet. "The busi- 
 ness of the poet," he says, "is to tell not what 
 has happened, but what should happen, and 
 
preface 
 
 what is possible, either from its probabiHty, or 
 from its necessary connection with what has 
 gone before." By all this I mean that though 
 you may convince yourself, if you will, that the 
 incidents herein described will never occur in 
 fact quite as I describe them, yet when you pen- 
 etrate past the incidents to the forces which pul- 
 sate beneath them, you will find the reality of 
 these, their latent menace and their possible 
 conflict, to be conclusions irresistible to every 
 observer of the contemporary social unrest. 
 
 Labor and Capital meet at a point which has 
 become precisely the one where a whole host of 
 remoter, invisible social evils produce their vis- 
 ible and oppressive effect. The burdens of the 
 unearned increment of land, of the trusts, of 
 the tariff, of the chicanery of finance, of the in- 
 creased cost of living, are all concentrated here, 
 — are all unobserved yet active forces which pro- 
 pel the laborer with concentrated violence 
 against the one point of impingement — his re- 
 lation to his employer: hence this point is so 
 critical, so charged with ulterior electrical po- 
 tency. Extrinsic imperfections here lend their 
 effect to those which are inherent in the relation 
 of employer and employed. In a word, though 
 a thousand leaks in the mill-dam may drain the 
 pond dry, it is at the miller's door alone that 
 there arises the cry of want of bread. 
 
preface 
 
 Only visionaries will imagine that one rem- 
 edy can correct infinitely varied evils. Students 
 of fact are even now busy tracing to each re- 
 mote source the malignant causes ; and the 
 slow patience of social evolution must work the 
 cure. But to the poet remains the right to 
 depict the point of crises, — to call up before 
 the reader two great opponents each sustained 
 by partial justice, each weakened by partial in- 
 iquity, — and to illuminate the scene with the 
 light of imagination, which, powerless itself, 
 has before now been source of many powers. 
 
 As to the form of this play, its complete di- 
 vorce from realism, and its use of embodied ab- 
 stractions as protagonists, I shall not comment: 
 since, in any art, form is peculiarly a matter 
 to be apprehended and appraised by the specta- 
 tor according to the dictates of his personal 
 sensibilities ; and the artist's explanation as to 
 why he chose one means rather than another is 
 an impertinence which neither wards off what- 
 ever aversion nor increases whatever pleasure 
 the work itself may arouse. But I cannot re- 
 frain from calling upon the reader for assist- 
 ance in one thing — the full vigor of his visu- 
 alizing power ; without the exercise of which the 
 curtain now being lifted will disclose only a 
 barren stage peopled by grotesque shadows. 
 
 1905-1910 
 
THE BREAKING OF BONDS 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONAE 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR. 
 
 THE MASTERS OF WEALTH. 
 
 THE WATCHER. 
 
 THE WISE MEN. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF BEAUTY. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF POWER. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE CITIES. 
 
 THE HILL-SPIRIT. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE EIGHTH DAT OF CREATION. 
 
l:s«tM<w.-' 
 
prologue 
 
 Mine eyes grow dizzy 'mid the cities' glooms. 
 What but complete destruction here shall save 
 The toiling millions? In some Titan grave 
 Alone can be the solving of these dooms. 
 Hope flares and fades as do the death-white 
 
 plumes 
 Of steam that from the hissing engines wave; 
 And in the hearts that should be happy, rave 
 The incessant voices of the terrible looms. 
 
 And what shall mend.'^ Can any holy power 
 From this Egyptian bondage set men free? 
 Can any Spring call forth in wondrous flower 
 This buried life to all that life might be? 
 Or waits the world but for one whelming hour 
 When all shall perish in Time's soundless sea? 
 
 The world is chaos; and the Masses stream 
 Like beasts upon whose vision phantoms swarm. 
 Yet life from matter slowly moulds a form, 
 And far to-morrow holds some fairer gleam 
 For who can see, darting prophetic gleam 
 Where, past the years of travail and alarm. 
 Lightens the edge of a departing storm. 
 
prologue 
 
 And fact shall prove what yet we dare not 
 dream. 
 
 No swift transforming in the inspired hour, 
 No sudden light of wide victorious change 
 Shall bring new triumph out of old defeat. 
 Endure! Endure! It is no endless range 
 Of years that lead us where at last man's power 
 Shall mould his own salvation, as is mete. 
 
ACT I 
 
ACT I 
 
 Scene — The high, dark summit of a tower in 
 the midst of one of the greatest of cities. 
 It is night, without moon or stars. Below 
 the level platform of the tozaer-top spreads 
 dimly the wide view of countless roofs and 
 belching smoke-stacks, looming through 
 the darkness. Smoke comes billowing up 
 from beneath. 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 What darkness more than night is arched 
 o'er heaven? 
 Or is it that the Gods, if such there be, 
 Are in the end outwearied, and have turned 
 Their hoping eyes unto some other star 
 And other race more tractable than man? 
 Or have the Powers died silent on their thrones. 
 Or never lived; — and only chaos reigns? . . . . 
 
 Behold, the caverns of hell are opened now. 
 And flare in swirling smoke and clamor and 
 
 lights 
 Up from the city's chasm-depth of streets. 
 With a thunder and roar, the fierce, the tortured 
 
 sound 
 Bursts from its haunts, surges above the earth, 
 And rising tier by tier through the vast piles 
 
4 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 That men have builded, shatters round about 
 me 
 
 The stinging piteous anguish of its spray. 
 
 Oh men who toil before white furnaces ! 
 
 Oh women slaving in unlighted rooms ! 
 
 Oh giant thighs of engines, — wheels whose 
 swift 
 
 Uninterrupted whirl spins out the lives 
 
 Of men like glass ! Oh whirr of terrible steel ! 
 
 Your furious power sweeps by me, flecked with 
 plumes 
 
 Of driving steam and glare of pitiless fires, 
 
 Straining with restless movement, tense con- 
 vulsion, — 
 
 Tortured with life that struggles to be free ! 
 
 What dream of mine shall make this torment 
 sweet ? 
 What far-off hope assuage the present doom 
 Of thousands stricken? In my heart I feel 
 The times are past all mending, — out of tune 
 Too mightily with heaven's just harmonies 
 For any end save rending of the strings. 
 Master and slave, oppressed and worn oppres- 
 sor. 
 Alike are fettered in the locking links 
 Of that fierce engine built of tangled men 
 Which rages through the world. And but one 
 cry 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 Arises from it, with the hoarse denial 
 
 And desperation of a million hearts 
 
 That have no God —yet cry— "Oh God, what 
 
 end?" 
 And I, who hear and tremble, find no words 
 Save unavailing echo for reply. 
 
 ^Again those multitudinous voices rise 
 
 From the dim city, like a far-off seal 
 
 THE VOICES OF THE MEN WHO LABOE 
 
 What meaning, and what end? 
 Though death is dark, yet life is darker. 
 Let the end come. 
 
 Our arms are breaking now. 
 Our eyes are heavy with dust. 
 But the heart in the breast is sick 
 Beyond sickness of the body. 
 
 The sun grows dim. 
 
 The air is poisoned 
 For us within whose weary breasts 
 A baleful loathing of our lot 
 
 Feeds like a serpent. 
 
 For chains are about us ; they bind us ; and 
 none may tell us why. 
 
6 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 Locked in the engine we sway like the piston, 
 
 save only the soul, — 
 The soul that still can feel, though the dull beat 
 
 almost has killed it. 
 And now it cowers in silence, knowing to dream 
 
 is to die. 
 We shall die soon enough, God knows. 
 When the fiber of the body grows weak. 
 When the sore-strained metal is flawed, 
 Then, — and this only is sure, — we shall die, 
 
 hungering for bread. 
 Yet, — and God pity the world, — in our children 
 
 the hunger lives on. 
 
 What shadow is over the world .^ In the mists 
 
 and the sulphurous steam 
 Where we move, have the Gods forgotten, and 
 
 left us alone to our doom.^^ 
 Oh doom we cannot see ! Blind, blind ! Oh Gods, 
 
 have pity, — 
 Else shall we rise and rend you, though far 
 
 your seats may be. 
 What powers oppress us? Do ye? Give light, 
 
 ere we clutch you and fall 
 In ruin of you and us What powers 
 
 oppress us? 
 
Cbe Breahing of Bonds 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Lo! as in answer, I behold a light, 
 Pale, luminously lovely, floating high 
 Over the city ; and from it drifts down 
 Music, like holiness shed on the night. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF BEAUTY 
 
 Oh ye who drain life's scanty cup. 
 Filling the present with your cries 
 For light, for hope, for joy, — lift up 
 Unto my heights your seeking eyes, 
 And find what loveliness might be 
 Shed like a dawn on earth and sea. 
 
 I am the light, I am the dawn 
 That beauty brings the waiting heart. 
 Believe not I am wholly gone. 
 Though sundered from you long apart. 
 From out your night, seek ye my way 
 Unto the portals of the day. 
 
 I, chanted in a thousand hymns 
 That all turn homeward to one shrine; — 
 I, flame of lamp each poet trims; — 
 I, form each painter knows divine: — 
 These am I; yea, and I am goal 
 Sought blindly by each trammeled soul. 
 
8 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 I, faithful, promise you these things 
 If ye come to me: — such a fire 
 Of joy as in the skylark sings ; 
 Such passion of supreme desire 
 As ends not with the mortal breath, 
 But knows itself high lord of death. 
 
 Who dwells in beauty, he shall be 
 The master of a magic world. 
 The eyes that I have kissed shall see 
 A golden universe unfurled. 
 Wherein the heart no more will strive 
 For joys earth has not power to give. 
 
 For in my calm all struggle dies 
 Of earthly goals. The singing flame 
 Which far above earth's clamor flies 
 Draws up each soul that loves my name; 
 And he, earth-bound no longer, sees 
 The purpose of eternities. — 
 
 He knows the mysteries of Spring, — 
 The secrets of each lovely star 
 In courts of heaven ; yea, no thing 
 So bright or beautiful or far 
 But it shall come to him and sing 
 To wake his soul's remembering — 
 
Cbe Breahing of Bonds 9 
 
 To wake remembering long ago 
 Lost in the mists of his sad birth. 
 But now, returning, he shall know 
 Beauties more sacred than of earth ; 
 And folded to my heart shall be 
 Eternally, eternally. 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Thou, holy beyond words spoken on earth. 
 Have I not sought thee ever.^* Yes, in hours 
 Of solemn afternoon or lyric dawn 
 Thou hast vouchsafed me such a sight of thee 
 As is enough for life, though all else fade. 
 
 — But ye. Oh toilers bound upon the wheel, — 
 What answer will ye make? — Behold the light, 
 The Spirit that shall free you from your doom. 
 Arise, and cry to her, with hearts aflame! 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 What light, what voice .^ 
 The lights of furnaces blind our eyes. 
 The voices of hammers fill our ears. 
 Is there any answer to make to these? 
 What light? What voice? 
 
10 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Look up — have ye not heard, have ye not 
 seen ? 
 Gaze upon Beauty, who atones for life. 
 
 THE MEN WHO I.ABOR 
 
 If we look up the machines will tear us. 
 They wait, they watch to seize us. 
 They snarl; they would rend us; but we are 
 
 wise: 
 Our eyes and our hands shall grip unceasing 
 
 their throats. 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Lift but one glance — Behold! — ^What see 
 ye now.? 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Nothing! 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Nothing! . . . Aye, Vision of serener 
 heights, 
 Thou f adest even now upon my gaze 
 And takest flight to thy celestial home. 
 And it is well: — what canst thou be to these 
 Who see thee not ; what canst thou be to me 
 Who, following thee, must leave eternally 
 
Cbc Breaking of Bonds ll 
 
 The fellowship of these who are my blood? 
 This hour is not for thee ; thou art too bright, 
 Wrought of too tenuous visions for these times 
 Wherein the world struggles in travail dim 
 Toward some strange end. Thou art not for 
 
 these eyes, 
 So long oppressed with darkness that at last 
 
 Darkness alone can be their element 
 
 — But come, Oh Spirit which dwellest in the 
 
 hills,— 
 Thou who art source of all sweet natural joys, — 
 Thou who dost cool the meadows, hush the 
 
 night, — 
 Whose magic haunts are valleys and slow 
 
 streams, — 
 Be thou before us, that old brotherhood 
 With flowers and sun and creatures of the wood 
 May flood returning through the withered soul. 
 
 Thou art come ! What lips shall say but thou 
 are fair.? 
 The light of morning meadows is around thee, 
 And in thine eyes the peace of summer noons. 
 I hear the branches' rustle in thy garments ; 
 And the lone bird beneath the moon of May 
 Is not more sweet than the music of thy voice. 
 
12 Cbe Breahing of Bonds 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE HILLS 
 
 Weary sons, who on my breast 
 Stirred and struggled in unrest, — 
 Ye who breathed my peaceful air 
 Once, — who found my meadows fair 
 Ere the cities all were built, — 
 And then flocked where want and guilt 
 Rose like poison-bearing flowers 
 To oppress your troubled hours; — 
 Now the destined day is come, 
 Turn unto your ancient home. 
 
 For I am Nature; I am she 
 In whose bosom man was free 
 As the glad wild things that play 
 In the woods at peep of day. 
 Wherefore did ye rove away.'' 
 Wherefore were your longings whirled 
 In the glamor of a world 
 Fierce and clamorous and cold, 
 Emptier than our hills of old.'' 
 Ah, but now that it is past, 
 I shall comfort you at last. 
 Now, as once of old has been. 
 Ye shall turn unto the green 
 Hills of morning, where the air 
 Whispers round your lips and hair 
 Songs of all joys fresh and fair. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 13 
 
 Bonds and bondage soon shall be 
 
 Forgotten in the ecstacy 
 
 Of that immortal minstrelsy. 
 
 Ye shall remember only this — 
 
 The scents and savors of the hills, 
 
 The dancing waters' eager kiss, 
 
 The dear unclouded peace that fills 
 
 Every morn the spirit's bowl 
 
 And is not dried up at even ; 
 
 Mild desires which the soul 
 
 Wins, and finds therein its heaven. 
 
 Simple joys and labors sweet 
 
 Shall round out your peaceful days. 
 
 Ye shall forget the clamorous ways 
 
 Wherein too long have moved your feet. 
 
 Oh weary ones, I still am here 
 
 To lead you from your toil apart; 
 
 And by green hill and sleeping mere 
 
 Ye shall be folded to my heart. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 We hear, great Mother, we hear. 
 For thy touch is not dead in us. 
 Still stirs in us the longing 
 For thy life, that once was ours. 
 Thy memory still haunts us 
 In the hours of the night-watches 
 
14 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 With importunate longing 
 Like a great cry. 
 Yet we are bound as with fetters 
 And the chains of doom are upon us ; 
 How shall we burst them now 
 And come forth unto thee? 
 For another world is ours 
 Than the fields where dwelt our sires, 
 Where now we are as strangers 
 That know not the return. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE HILLS 
 
 About you twines the heavy chain 
 Of restless need and custom vain. 
 Judge life's false glories at their worth 
 And to the simple earth come forth. 
 Yea, cast in dust the sick desire 
 That lures the son, as once the sire. 
 For things that bring no happiness, 
 For tawdry joys that never bless. 
 For all the mingled pain and strife 
 And that makes accursed the cities' life. 
 Abandon worldly hopes, and free 
 Come forth to me, come forth to me. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Yea, we would come to thee 
 Save for her who holds us bound. 
 
Cbe Breahing of Bonds 15 
 
 Hast thou looked upon her eyes? 
 Hast thou felt her hands upon thee? 
 A need is ours, and a horror, — 
 A loathing, and a desire 
 For the Spirit of the Cities, 
 That will not let us free. 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 What form is this that hovers like a mist 
 Out of the city? — Past the streets and flare 
 Of chimneys, it is rising to this height. 
 On bursting clouds of smoke, with fitful fire. 
 See ! It grows denser — it takes shape, and stands 
 Peering across the wilderness of roofs. 
 — It will turn ; it will speak . . . Oh God, close 
 
 up my sight ! 
 Let me not see the horrible woman's shape, — 
 The blind face, and the eyes that fiercely stare 
 Out of her breasts, and the horror of her hands ! 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE CITIES 
 
 Who crieth? What vaporous phantom, what 
 
 bodiless wind from the hills 
 Would draw ye, — my children, my lovers, my 
 
 worshipers, — hence to a shrine 
 Where the happy beasts gather? Strange 
 
 laughter wells up from the houses and fills 
 
16 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 The city to mock at the power that would meas- 
 ure its greatness with mine. 
 
 For the spell of my cities has woven around you, 
 and mastered your blood, 
 
 And filled you with needs and desires from which 
 ye shall never go free. 
 
 By the infinite lure of my life, of my changing 
 and manifold mood, 
 
 By your loathing and lust, by your hatred and 
 love, ye are joined unto me. 
 
 Can ye go to the woods and the hills whence 
 so gladly of old came your sires.? 
 
 Can ye give up all goals we have sought, and 
 the cities so splendidly planned.? 
 
 Lo! the past and the present have kindled the 
 ceasingless urge of desires 
 
 Undreamed by your fathers, and sated by none 
 save my glimmering hand. 
 
 Why cry ye of doom and oppressors.? Alike, 
 men and masters are bound 
 
 In the woof of my fabric whose greatness sur- 
 passes the greatness of God. 
 
 From my splendors of life and vast movement, 
 from the spell of my glitter and sound. 
 
 Can ye turn and go back to the silence and 
 meager content of the sod.? 
 
Cbc Breaking of Bonds 17 
 
 What ye are, I have made you ; and making, 
 set on you my symbol and sign. 
 
 And touched you with new hidden weakness, and 
 filled you with new secret powers. 
 
 And though ye go forth from the cities, this na- 
 ture shall mark you as mine 
 
 And ceaselessly follow your feet with devotion 
 that fawns and devours. 
 
 Ye shall fall, ye shall die if ye leave me; my 
 hounds shall pursue you and slay. 
 
 And the whirlwinds of heaven shall thunder 
 where the tents of your morning were set. 
 
 Ye shall lift up your moans and repentance of 
 folly that darkened 3^our day ; 
 
 But my towers shall loom coldly upon you ; nor 
 welcome, nor ever forget. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Yea, we are thine; 
 Our heads are bowed before thee. 
 Eternally thine own. 
 No hope can make us free. 
 Against thy barriers 
 We strain forever vainly. 
 Thou hast made us what we are 
 And we cannot go back. 
 
18 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 Let the idle dreaming end 
 Let us gaze not heavenward; 
 Let us work out our doom 
 To fulfillment of the end. 
 Thou hast given us chains 
 And we have chained ourselves. 
 And the world we knew is lost. 
 Let us work out our doom. 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Gone every phantom: to its deep again 
 Settles the pall of smoke and roar of sound; 
 Settles the hope to grimmer misery ; 
 And the worn heart takes on another stain. 
 
 — What tread of feet is this? What swift 
 approach ? 
 What pageant out of hell rushes upon me.'' 
 They come, the Masters, in a huddled crowd 
 Driven beneath the whirling lash of One, 
 A strange dark Form, a Spirit towering high, 
 A Thunder-Fury, whose eyes, like steady light- 
 ning. 
 Dart here and there with the tongues of his 
 
 cruel scourge. 
 And the wild herd he drives struggle for ever 
 One with another, and all are driven on. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 19 
 
 Tliere appears a Pageant, — the Spirit of Power, 
 a gigantic Fury, driving before it a great 
 fiercely -struggling crowd. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF POWER 
 
 Onward ! ye spirits dedicate to me, 
 Lovers and fellow-sharers of my reign. 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Who are ye, phantoms, whirling rapt and 
 stem 
 Out of waste caverns of some direful place? 
 
 THE MASTERS OF WEALTH 
 
 What halt is this? We, Masters of the age, 
 Must on, must on ! nor in vain pause delay 
 The course of Progress that is ours to guide. 
 For time is short : the world's unfinished task 
 Calls us to projects none except our eyes 
 From out the future's close-entangled mesh 
 Can trace and to articulate plan conform. 
 Vast shapes of empire must be reared and set ; 
 The ages press upon us to fulfill 
 All their magnificence of prophecy. 
 And which of us shall gain the mightiest sway 
 No eye can see, though every heart may hope 
 And battle keenly for his destiny. 
 
20 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 Mirages of the future draw our steps. 
 Imagination, blazing in the brain, 
 Reveals the powers that may be gathered up 
 Into the hand of him whose hand is strong. 
 The homage and the wonder of all men. 
 And power alone is godlike in the world, — 
 The chosen attribute of deity, — 
 The prize of our endeavor and desire. 
 Therefore pause not ! Pausing is for the dead. 
 The great attainment still is far; the goal 
 Of Progress calls. Yea, and our high compeers, 
 Captains and kings of old, would writhe in dust 
 To see the promise. On ! for the moments flee 
 And the hour sets that leads us to our throne. 
 
 From far below in the city rise vnnumerahle 
 voices. 
 
 THE VOICES OF THE MEN WHO I^BOR 
 
 Yea, if there is a God 
 He has turned his face from us. 
 And our hands are against him ; 
 We will hurl him down. 
 Our days are as death 
 Save that they bring no ending. 
 We will cast all from us 
 And rise to destroy. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 21 
 
 From glare of furnaces 
 Our eyes are blind. 
 Who now will guide us 
 To the foe we seek? 
 Let be revealed to us 
 The power that crushes us. 
 Show us our Oppressors ! 
 Show us our Oppressors! 
 
ACT II 
 
ACT II 
 
 Scene — The pleasant sun-lighted porches of a 
 white retreat set in the middle of a forest- 
 glade. In the foreground a clear foun- 
 tain is playing. Music. 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 What goal is end of man's desire? 
 What final haven of the blest 
 Shall give the immortal spirit rest 
 Where music of the starry choir 
 Shall weave around him its soft fire, 
 And longing lip to lip be pressed? 
 
 Who knoweth if, as prophet saith, 
 Such haven anywhere shall be? 
 Or if the soul eternally 
 Must dwell beneath the hush of death? 
 O eager heart and passionate breath, 
 What if there is no home for thee? 
 
 Yet what avails it if the stream 
 Of life flows on, or dies away? 
 Perhaps our souls that weep and pray 
 Are but as phantoms in God's dream. 
 And at his waking we shall stream 
 To void, like ghosts at break of day. 
 
26 Zhc Breaking of Bonds 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 Ye wise men, searchers of the hidden deeps, 
 We come to you for light on grievous things. 
 Life is not wholly glad for us, though lords 
 We seem to rule the tangled press of life. 
 A strange distress, a brooding pain is ours; 
 And not the splendors of our great estate 
 Can make it sweeter. All our victories 
 Over the scattered forces of the world, 
 All our command of wide-extended power. 
 Brings no content. Some barrier thwarts our 
 
 steps 
 To keep us ever from the path of joy. 
 And we have heard far-off a dim unrest. 
 Like threat of thunder to our troubled ears. 
 These things oppress us, that we know not 
 
 peace. 
 Therefore make plain the mysteries of the heart, 
 The key of joy, the secret of content; 
 Reveal whereby we, Masters of the World, 
 Being omnipotent in all things else. 
 May lay our hands upon its happiness. 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 High Lords, no perfect joy there is 
 On earth; but nearest shall ye come 
 To portals of its secret home 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 27 
 
 By harkening to the harmonies 
 Of Nature's deep and soothing bliss 
 And musing where the planets roam. 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 Shall we, who with the dominance of mind 
 Rule the material world, go seeking joy 
 On the waste mountain-tops and desert places? 
 Is this the sum of your laborious thought? 
 Turn us not thus with idle words aside. 
 Some means must be whereby unbridled power 
 May force life's happiness to serve its will. 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Yours is the old unending cry 
 To which no answer can be made. 
 Behold, — unto our musing glade 
 Already others come : stand by. 
 Truth spake herself in our reply; 
 Let wisdom on your hearts be laid. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Ye wise ones, we have come 
 Beseeching light from you. 
 Long have we toiled in chains 
 And gained not the fruits of our toil. 
 Hands have snatched them away, 
 
28 Cbe Breahing of Bonds 
 
 And we knew not the taste thereof, 
 
 And the joy of laboring died 
 
 In dust upon our lips ; 
 
 Till hope had perished in us, 
 
 And life itself grew dim. 
 
 And now we have arisen, 
 
 We come beseeching you 
 
 Out of your mighty wisdom 
 
 To show us our Oppressors. 
 
 For unto them we will go. 
 
 We will rend them with fury 
 
 Though it cost us life itself. 
 
 Which is not so sweet to us. 
 
 Naught have we now to lose; 
 
 The final depth is ours ; 
 
 Now shall some change come forth. 
 
 However dire it be. 
 
 At least an end shall dawn 
 
 On the night of our oppression ; 
 
 And though we live not to see it, 
 
 Light shall break in the world. 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Wild hearts, how little do ye know 
 Of secrets of the spirit's room ! 
 No fierce Oppressor shapes your doom ; 
 Your pain is but the eternal woe 
 
Cbc Breaking of Bonds 29 
 
 Which in each soul must come and go, 
 As every rose toward death must bloom. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Nay, other pain than such 
 Is that whereof we speak. 
 Our lives are crushed and spurned 
 Beyond the blows of Fate. 
 Death and defeat of hope 
 All men can bear in silence ; — 
 But not to live unhoping 
 In bondage unto men. 
 Man has our bondage made ; 
 Man has weighed down our doom; 
 With more than common woe 
 Man has enfolded us. 
 Ye who are wise, reveal 
 What hand hath done this thing? 
 With wrath more dire than God's, 
 Who hath oppressed us? 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Yours is the old unending cry 
 To which no answer can be made. 
 Even we, within our musing glade, 
 Have felt dim burdens on us lie. 
 Dreams of Oppressors put ye by. 
 Which fancy on your hearts has laid. 
 
30 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF POWER 
 
 I, I arise to be your revelation ! 
 Behold ! They stand there in your very sight, — 
 The Masters, your oppressors, come to seek 
 New ways of forging fetters over you. 
 They waver and they hesitate ; and I, 
 No more the ally of their weakened hour. 
 Scorning the trembler, now will lead you on. 
 
 THE MEN WHO I.AB0R 
 
 Are ye those dark oppressors, long secret and 
 
 unseen. 
 Whose dominance has been upon us like a chain ? 
 Whose burdens were a load beyond our tortured 
 
 power. 
 Forever and forever stifling our very breath .f^ 
 In our dark city streets, in crowded homes of 
 
 want. 
 Have we long brooded, dreaming of the coming 
 
 of an hour 
 When face to face at last we might behold our 
 
 Masters. 
 Now openly declare if such indeed ye be. 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 What Masters speak ye of? We know not 
 aught of them, 
 
Cbc Breahirig of Bonds 31 
 
 Nor aught of ye, save that ye are the toilers of 
 
 the world, — 
 Low servants of great tasks. To us ye give 
 
 your labor, 
 But freely, for reward. Our hands oppress no 
 
 man. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Who set us unto labor.'' Who holds us bound 
 to toil? 
 Who bids us serve like slaves or die for want of 
 bread ? 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 Confusion strange is on you. — With might 
 of mind we plan 
 
 Colossal systems, turning like interlocking 
 w^heels. 
 
 To shape the stuffs of earth by intricate design 
 
 Into what mould may serve the need and press 
 of life. 
 
 Your hands bring useful aid toward this accom- 
 plishment : 
 
 Hence do we give employ to such of ye as come. 
 
 Freely ye come or go : simple the matter stands : 
 
 Wherefore do ye reproach us with blind impas- 
 sioned speech.? 
 
32 Cbc Breaking of Bonds 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOE 
 
 Your subtly-woven words veil not, for light 
 bursts wildly, 
 
 And we at last behold the well-spring of our lot. 
 
 Our bitter need creates your opportunity : 
 
 And for a crust ye buy the toil that makes you 
 great. 
 
 And as your might has grown, ye have fettered 
 us more closely, 
 
 And made us toil for a pittance, and our chil- 
 dren knew not bread. 
 
 This shall ye answer us, no more subdued in 
 darkness, — 
 
 Once naked at your mercy, once scourged be- 
 neath your feet. 
 
 A million hands reach up to tear you from your 
 places 
 
 An ye are silent now, who silent were too long. 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 Tax not too heavily our patience with com- 
 plaint. 
 
 Let thought illume your minds ere your tongues 
 utter hate. 
 
 Ye have exacted ever the utmost we could yield. 
 
 Snarling anew with greed at every bounty won. 
 
 We pay a generous wage for your unskillful 
 brawn ; 
 
 Ye grudgingly perform what little toil ye must. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 33 
 
 Sluggards and shirkers all, with evil-hearted 
 
 spite 
 Covetous to enjoy the fruits of our success. 
 Unreasoning demands are ever on your lips : 
 Your hands are ever idle, — save on the payment 
 
 day. 
 
 THE MEN WHO 1.ABOE 
 
 Peace from this ancient talk! Threats profit 
 not today. 
 Open your close-walled minds and strive to un- 
 derstand. 
 Between us lies a gulf your thought has never 
 
 passed, 
 Ye who regard our service but as your rightful 
 
 due; 
 Infinite dark abysses of want and hopelessness, 
 Caverns of nightmare toil, divide us utterly. 
 Not as free men ye deem us, but serfs of your 
 
 estate. 
 Ye give us as our portion only our daily bread, 
 Like slaves to whom is doled sufficient to sustain 
 Life, that their strength may last in service of 
 
 their lord. 
 And even the harsh labor that wins us livlihood 
 Ye sometimes have denied us, for purposes un- 
 known 
 Closing your doors and driving a thousand 
 laborers forth 
 
84 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 To starve, or seek elsewhere the privilege of 
 
 toil! 
 And when old age comes on, then are we cast 
 
 aside, — 
 Beasts in your service crippled, tools broken by 
 
 your hands. 
 We, bowed in darkness, bear the burden of the 
 
 world : 
 Ye in the forefront shine, the fortunate and 
 
 great. 
 Like iron of the furnace ye daily buy and sell 
 Are we, a thing of commerce, — your laborers, 
 
 your slaves! 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 Ye speak with tongues of children. No man 
 
 is held a slave. 
 By law forbid. Then answer: — Is justice 
 
 bought and sold.^ 
 Even ye dare not utter so manifest a lie. 
 Before the Law ye also are free and equal men. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 With words hke chaff ye feed the hunger of 
 
 our thoughts. 
 In truth. Law is not sold: yet gold has power 
 
 to set 
 Slow bars to justice: — lo, we starve: thus ye 
 
 prevail. 
 
Cbe Breahing of Bonds 35 
 
 Therefore the Law is yours ; ours the appeal in 
 vain. 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 Law, made by mortal hands, is filled with 
 
 frailties, 
 Beset with imperfections, which we likewise 
 
 lament. 
 But how, O men of wisdom, will ye transmute 
 
 these things 
 Into the clear perfection so easy on your lips? 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Oh, admirable words! — Why are our days a 
 
 dusk 
 Of toil among fierce engines? Why are our 
 
 bodies torn 
 By the vast angry wheels ? Why are our homes 
 
 the home 
 Of poverty and hunger? Why are the fruits 
 
 of toil, 
 Our toil, thus taken from us to feed your lux- 
 ury? 
 We lack the bread of life : your wealth o'erflows 
 
 the earth. 
 To make your pleasant hours, our thousand 
 
 days are slain. 
 
36 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 Ye squander for a fancy, — a moment's bubble- 
 
 joy,— 
 
 Enough to make our desolate old age secure and 
 
 bright. 
 Wherefore are all these things? Do ye indeed 
 
 inherit 
 From God some higher right to live in happi- 
 ness ? 
 Have we no bodies, too, to feel the sting of 
 
 want, — 
 No souls to yearn for hope and progress toward 
 
 some goal? 
 The long gray days of labor that bring no hope 
 
 fulfilled. 
 The nights of sleep, the body's weariness of 
 
 despair. 
 The morn that comes unwelcomed, the passing 
 
 forth once more 
 To the allotted toil: — do these suffice for life? 
 Lo, ye have raised high walls, and set us apart 
 
 from you; 
 And the hopes and fears are yours, and ours the 
 
 blind dumb toil; 
 Though it is our right to strive, our right to win 
 
 or lose 
 Each one his goal; but even the right to lose 
 
 ye have taken. 
 In impotent resentment we walk your golden 
 
 streets 
 
Cbc Breaking of Bonds 37 
 
 And watch the rich procession with bitter 
 
 smouldering eyes ; 
 And feel arising in us a tide no shore may bar, 
 Crowded with floating wreckage of all our 
 
 ruined years. — 
 Why should our children toil as the servants of 
 
 your children? 
 Why should our sons be slaves to the pastime of 
 
 your sons? 
 Why should our daughters serve as handmaids 
 
 to your daughters, 
 Or spend sad lives in labor to weave them rich 
 
 attire, 
 Or give their souls and bodies for the unright- 
 eous pleasure, 
 For the unholy riot and ruin of your sons? 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 How easy, how delightful, to heap before one 
 
 door 
 All the world's ills, and cry to us — Behold your 
 
 work, base men ! 
 Are we the Lords of Heaven? Is misery in our 
 
 hands 
 To give or to withhold? Nay, look with clearer 
 
 eyes. 
 Many things have we wrought: — of evils some, 
 
 perchance ; 
 
38 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 But these are lost and buried in the blessings we 
 
 have given. 
 Because of us, ye gain a thousand boons un- 
 known 
 To them that were your fathers. Our eager 
 
 brains have toiled 
 To bring the magic wealth of new years unto 
 
 you. 
 Because of us, the ship plows the unfathomed 
 
 waves ; 
 We bid the spark leap out across two continents ; 
 Our daring thought has bade the engine do your 
 
 task. 
 Has given light and shelter, has made your lot 
 
 more sweet. 
 Through anxious days and nights, shaping these 
 
 precious things. 
 Our labor, even as yours, is worthy of its hire. 
 Ye earn the daily wage that fits the narrow 
 
 scope ; 
 The prize of mighty projects is ours who look 
 
 afar. 
 In all this have we striven with mighty rivals 
 
 ever, — 
 All working toward one end, yet each opposing 
 
 each. 
 Hence must our hands be strong; hence must 
 our wealth be great, — 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 39 
 
 Could we give you all, and perish before our 
 
 stern compeers? 
 Had wealth been never ours, — had every man 
 
 amongst you 
 Possessed in equal portion these concentrated 
 
 powers. 
 Then were a thousand years of history unborn, 
 And ye would tread a poor, unhabitable earth. 
 We have enriched the world beyond the dreams 
 
 of ages ; — 
 In these great undertakings ye could have 
 
 found a part 
 Had might of mind been in you. Open the doors 
 
 of Fate 
 Stood to your touch: ye came not: and now ye 
 
 cry in vain. 
 Leaders must front the van : we led, for we w ere 
 
 strong : 
 And the great armies moved to splendid victory. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Ye have enriched the world; but ye have 
 taken the riches. 
 As in a starless night are we alone with want 
 Outside your banquet-doors. Ye only have been 
 
 happy : 
 Out of our meager portion there came no hap- 
 piness. 
 
40 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 Happiness? None is happy! We stand with 
 
 straining eyes 
 Afar on lonely places, and tremble lest we fall. 
 We bear the anxious load of captains as we 
 
 stake 
 In dubious adventure all spoils that we have 
 
 won. 
 Great is the wager cast ; fierce is the stress of 
 
 fight: 
 And victory bears rightly rich treasure in its 
 
 train. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Cease! Ye alone have honor, and we alone 
 
 have toil. 
 Ye have banded yourselves against us to fetter 
 
 us the more. 
 At first by silent stealth, ere yet we were 
 
 awakened. 
 And now combined, defiant, ye take what should 
 
 be ours. 
 Yea, all your hoarded riches were stolen from 
 
 our hands : — 
 Why should we not arise and claim our right at 
 
 last.? 
 Worms that have fattened long; thieves that 
 
 have crept by night! 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 41 
 
 Behold! the judgment dawn, so long deferred, 
 has come. 
 
 And a fury rises in us, looking upon your 
 faces. 
 
 And the blackness of our wrong calls the light- 
 ning to our hands. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF POWER 
 
 Have done with idle words that draw no light 
 from heaven. 
 The fire and flood shall join in peace as soon as 
 
 ye. 
 
 Do ye vainly hope the lion will cast his teeth 
 
 and claws? 
 Do ye trust the herds will cease to tempt him 
 
 from his hills? 
 Arise and gird yourselves; opposed ye stand 
 
 forever ; 
 Let the long-suffering years give strength unto 
 
 your hands. 
 Let fury be your sword, despair your iron 
 
 buckler. 
 And memory of the past your helm and battle- 
 plume. 
 The judgment-day is here: now let the event 
 
 come forth: 
 Now for all time determine which hand shall 
 
 rule and set 
 
42 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 The straightened ways before the feet of which 
 
 as servant, 
 And which shall be the lord, — the equal of my 
 
 reign. 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Stay, — rashly let no mind presume 
 To see the justice of deep things. 
 Sweep not the world on maddened wings 
 Into that waste of final gloom 
 Where Chaos broods above the tomb 
 Of man's most fair imaginings. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 May the curse of our sons be on us 
 If now we stay our hands. 
 We have found our Oppressors ! 
 We have found our Oppressors! 
 The Past compels us; 
 The Future drives us ; 
 This is the end ; 
 And our hour is come. 
 
 The breaking of bonds 
 Today is ours. 
 With multifold hands 
 Shall our chains be rent. 
 Despair is the Past 
 
Xlhc Breaking of Bonds 43 
 
 And despair the Future. 
 
 This is the end, 
 
 And our hour is come. 
 
 LEADER OF THE WISE MEN 
 
 By all most dear and holy upon earth, 
 Stay ye one moment your uplifted hands 
 And hear my words before ye plunge our days 
 Into the cauldron of tremendous war. 
 Ah, ye will harken ! . . . For I knew you men. 
 Not brutes who see not past the eager deed. 
 And unto men I give this solemn counsel : — 
 Here stand your Masters ; — will ye wreck the 
 
 world. 
 And all its structures patiently upbuilt, 
 Yourselves, and them, in turmoil, ere ye know 
 If ordered justice cannot make your peace? 
 Will ye tear up the rooted walls of Law 
 Ere ye have proved what shelter they can give? 
 Nay, ye are men : go, seek before the Law 
 Arbitrament between you not in vain. 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 Yea, let us go together, as men who seek for 
 truth, 
 CJnto the Law deep-founded, the guardian of the 
 just. 
 
44 Cbc Breaking of Bonds 
 
 If ye indeed are wronged, ye shall not lack re- 
 
 quitement : 
 Till then, let clearer eyes determine and declare. 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Yea, pause not in this hour; go lay your 
 brooded wrongs 
 Before the Law, else have ye betrayed your race 
 and blood. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Who shall conceive our wrongs 
 
 Save he who felt them? 
 
 Yet will we go. 
 
 And the Law shall speak its word. 
 
 Justice has died in heaven: 
 
 Can it linger upon earth? 
 
 Yet once will we approach it, — 
 Again will we beseech it, — 
 Hurl ourselves in dust before it, — 
 Asking for right. 
 
 Go ye before us. 
 Ye Masters over Men! 
 Let us approach together 
 To the gates of the Law. 
 The darkness of night 
 Shall be no shelter for you 
 
Cbc Breaking of Bonds 45 
 
 From the lightnings of our fury 
 If ye draw back. 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Sunlight is darkened o'er the land; 
 The wind's white madness stirs the sea. 
 Whither shall now the spirit flee 
 For calm? The world groans in the hand 
 Of struggle. Shall our temples stand 
 When life is shaken utterly? 
 
 Behold! there mounts above the tremulous 
 earth 
 A mighty Presence of august command, 
 With form and features veiled as by a haze 
 Of distance, or the weakness of our sight. 
 Darkness is rayed from it, as from the sun 
 Brightness is poured, so that the eye sees not, 
 Yet the mind feels, with wonder half afraid. 
 Who art thou, solemn Shape, that dost arise 
 To brood upon our waverings like a cloud? 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE EIGHTH DAY OF CREATION 
 
 Men call me many names ; but who I am 
 Shall not be known till all is manifest 
 In the great splendors of the Dawn of God. 
 Through the earth's twilight I am still 
 obscured, 
 
46 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 Though often felt : as sun, I make the flower 
 Toil to fulfillment of mysterious doom; 
 As sea, I weave the fishes of the deep 
 Into my strange design; and as the Soul 
 Stirring beneath the scattered souls of men, 
 I rule the world. Mine was the mighty leap 
 In the mind of the first man who, looking up- 
 ward 
 Through the emptiness of night, beheld and felt 
 Wonderingly a system in the stars. 
 And when Prometheus brought to earth their 
 
 fire. 
 He took the fateful embers from my hand. 
 Forever changing that no man can name me; 
 Yet still the same, for every heart to feel; 
 I have my being in the life of earth, 
 And gropings, and immortal aspirations, 
 And heaven, and starry law. . . . 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Strange apparition, 
 Thou comest to us in an ominous hour 
 When the world trembles in an earthquake's 
 
 grasp. 
 If so great be thy might, — stay this unrest 
 Of Men and Masters, that disturbs the calm 
 Of our inviolable safe retreat. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 47 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE EIGHTH DAY OF CREATION 
 
 Well did I say that men could know me not. 
 I come among you that mine eyes may see 
 My forces draw this day unto its close 
 In one more dusk of the history of man 
 That rounds the cycle. Wherefore, in my will, 
 I would not stay the coming of that hour, 
 For need of change is on the world today, 
 And the earth cries aloud for the purging storm. 
 An infinite divertness is upon you; 
 Each mind is bound by some traditioned bond. 
 Walled round with custom, or enmeshed in faith, 
 Or blindly striving toward cruel worthless goals. 
 Separate from the universal hope. 
 Thus dwells the heart in the deserts of despair. 
 Forgetful of life's one allotted end. 
 
 Like the stiff, sapless tree, like the parched 
 bough. 
 
 Are these to me, — incapable of bloom. 
 
 And barring sunlight from the seeds beneath. 
 
 Shall impious men delay my onward steps.? 
 
 Nay, such shall perish, in ruin and dust pros- 
 trate 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Hear ye the thunders muttering in the west.'' 
 
48 Cbe Breahing of Bonds 
 
 What far-off sound comes mingled with their 
 
 roar ? 
 The air is trembling as if crowded thick 
 With hurrying forms. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE EIGHTH DAY OF CREATION 
 
 Thunder and hurrying forms 
 Must drive the blackness from the face of day, 
 And with sublime upheaval beat and rend 
 The long-polluted caverns wherein man 
 Has dwelt in mirk; until his ancient home 
 Shall be swept out and cleansed utterly. 
 My brow is dim with immemorial pain, 
 Having seen so many life-blooms die away, 
 A sacrifice to purpose ; yet must sweep 
 The sword unpitying. Yea, the tainted bud 
 Shall be cut off and cast aside, that still 
 The root may live, and each new age's bloom 
 Draw nearer to perfection of the flower. 
 
 ( Vanish. ) 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Lo! One comes toward us with the speed of 
 fire. 
 
 MESSENGER 
 
 I bear you tidings from the House of Law. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 49 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Speak swiftly, that we know the great event. 
 
 MESSENGER 
 
 The end is not yet here. Mine eyes have seen 
 How in a multitude the Men of Labor 
 Thunderously came, before them, cloudlike, 
 
 driving 
 The Masters ; while, behind, the Spirit of Power 
 Urged as the Hghtning. They drew near to 
 
 where 
 The Spirit of the Law slept in his halls. 
 They rushed upon him shouting; and he woke. 
 And to their clamored questions made response 
 Deliberate, beginning a strange tale 
 Of how in ancient Babylon the Lords 
 Dealt thus and thus with those who toiled for 
 
 them. 
 Gray custom of the past he did rehearse ; 
 And then he would have told them of some dream 
 Dreamed long ago by him. But such a shout 
 Rent through the halls that none could hear his 
 
 voice ; 
 And I fled forth to tell you what I saw. 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 What now shall come upon them? What dire 
 result shall be 
 
50 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 For these who dare profane the sacred hush of 
 
 Law? 
 Darkness is on the hour, and the winds make 
 
 muttering 
 Like woeful prophesying around a doomed 
 
 house. 
 
 SECOND MESSENGER 
 
 I bear you tidings ; in the House of Law 
 Fury has broken forth ; the Men of Labor 
 Suddenly rose and tore from his high seat 
 The Spirit of Law, and underneath their feet 
 Trampled his body ; even now they surge 
 Wild through the stripped and desecrated halls. 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Listen! What shout is that, as of the fall 
 Of nations wailing into some wide gulf ? 
 The air beats thick with muffled stress and roar 
 Borne from afar, confused as in a dream 
 
 THIRD MESSENGER 
 
 Chaos is come, and the House of Law has 
 fallen! 
 Over its ruined stones the multitudes 
 Rage in tremendous battle. In two ranks 
 The Men and Masters move, and surge in fight 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 51 
 
 Through the great corridors. The bloody 
 
 stairs 
 Are piled with corpses, and the crumbled stones 
 Serve battle-field and missiles ; — such convulsion 
 Earth might not see unless the furious waves 
 Fought in a last great struggle with the hills. 
 And momently do thousands, foe with foe. 
 Grapple in death. The Masters locked with 
 
 Men 
 Reel to destruction which engulfs them all. 
 And the Spirit of Power whirls like a storm 
 
 above them. 
 Smiting down blindly into the wild flood. 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Then this is end; earth passes to its doom. 
 Let us prepare us for annihilation 
 Of mortal life; — to sink in the whirling gulf. 
 What now can save? Oh Veiled Apparition. 
 Too truly hast thou spoken. . . And yet per- 
 chance 
 Some hope may still remain, since battle hangs 
 Poised in the scales of the hour 
 
 THE LEADER OF THE WISE MEN 
 
 — See what speeds 
 Like a waterspout over the plain toward us. — 
 It has come ! — 
 
52 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 THE SPIBIT OF POWER 
 
 Hail! Hail! Light beacons on the cliffs of 
 heaven ! 
 Beat with your shouts the battlements of sky 
 With furious joy for victory, victory! 
 
 THE WISE MEN 
 
 Victory to whom? — 
 
 THE SPIRIT OP POWER 
 
 Victory to me! To me! 
 
ACT III 
 
i 
 
ACT III 
 
 Scene — A place where four roads meet, in the 
 midst of a land of cornfields. Dawn slowly 
 breaks during the action. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE Hllil^S 
 
 Mine ears have heard far-off the clamorous 
 
 hosts ; 
 But now the last dim murmur dies away; 
 And in the sunshine of the quiet fields 
 The wind breathes only. — Will they come to 
 
 me, — 
 The torn survivors, now that all is past? 
 Will they return to the meadows and the sun. 
 The simple, natural life of golden days 
 So long forgotten? 
 
 O thou great Unknown Spirit 
 Who, in the hour when the created world 
 Lay all completed at the Maker's feet, 
 Wast made the guardian of its onward course 
 And painful upward growth, — come unto me; 
 Choose thou my fastness as thy dwelling place. 
 Where men shall know thee and once more be 
 
 glad 
 As in the old days, watched by thee and me. 
 
56 Che Breahing of Bonds 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE EIGHTH DAY OF CREATION 
 
 Who shall forget the gloom 
 Having once been lost in night? 
 Who shall forget the tomb 
 Having wept for a dead delight? 
 Can the heart be wrapped in a rose's bloom, 
 Having seen the billows fight? 
 
 Life may not turn again, 
 Though the way be still as sweet. 
 To the places whence it came; 
 Nor the elder soul repeat 
 Its simple joy in the summer's flame. 
 For the world stays not its feet. 
 
 From the hills no light has flown, 
 And the summer's fires still burn. 
 But in man's heart have grown 
 More wide desires that yearn 
 Toward greater life; thy day has flown, 
 And it cannot return. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE CITIES 
 
 Thou spirit whose inscrutable command 
 Fashions the world, through slowly moulding 
 
 days, — 
 O hear me, pity me, turn not thy face. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 57 
 
 My hour of ruin is but now overpast, 
 
 And desolate among my empty streets 
 
 I brood in downfall. Yea, I come to thee 
 
 Beseeching that thou enter mercifully 
 
 To set thy light upon my walls and towers. 
 
 For men are gone from me ; my fires are dead ; 
 
 My life is checked and ended; and, grown cold, 
 
 I lie dishonored on the breast of earth ; — 
 
 I, who in pride and folly reared to heaven 
 
 The mockery of my omnipotence, 
 
 Now lie deserted, ruined by the force 
 
 Of wild convulsion born within my streets. 
 
 Now am I other than I was of yore 
 
 When like a queen I ruled upon the land, 
 
 And held a people fettered in my sway. 
 
 Now have gone by all mine iniquities ; 
 
 The bondage and the darkness and the want 
 
 That held the millions to me have gone by. 
 
 Wherefore be thou my refuge and my hope : 
 
 Come thou to fill my desolated places. 
 
 That life be fair upon them, that men's eyes 
 
 May turn to me, and seek, in fairer mould. 
 
 Fulfillment of the days that were my shame. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE EIGHTH DAY OF CREATION 
 
 I see thee hideous in thy shame; 
 The echo of thy clamor flies 
 About mine ears ; yea, and thy name 
 
58 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 Upon the tainted whirlwind flies 
 So dark no horror can defame 
 The iniquity that in thee lies. 
 
 To thee I never shall return 
 Until thy streets are paved with flowers, — 
 Till level on thy floors shall burn 
 The sunset's flame, — till thy dark towers 
 Lie fallen, and thy funeral urn 
 Is blackened by uncounted hours. 
 
 For thou hast soiled mine ancient right. 
 Thou hast defiled the hearts of men. 
 In this, thy hour of crushed delight. 
 Shall I forget what stirred thee then.? 
 Go! and the thunders of the night 
 Shall rend thy harlot's diadem. 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 O Spirit holy and unfathomable. 
 With promise girt of all the soul desires ; 
 Thou who didst hover o'er the earlier world. 
 And from the darkness broughtest forth fair 
 
 life,— 
 Now that the world grows old and full of tears. 
 And full of dire confusions, wilt thou dwell 
 Among us never more? Art thou gone forth 
 To lands beyond the sunrise, where the roar 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 59 
 
 Of hideous struggle shall not waken thee? 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE EIGHTH DAY OF CREATION 
 
 Thou lovest me: — and is thy hope 
 Then of so frail and brief a scope 
 That thou dost dream my sons shall grope 
 For me henceforth as one departed? 
 Dost thou not know I shall be seen 
 When the dead branch once more is green, — 
 When men shall be, as they have been. 
 High-hearted ? 
 
 Oh man! in dreams I shall arise 
 Ever before thy wondering eyes. 
 My light shall haunt thy fancy's skies 
 Nor shall wide space our union sever. 
 All goals thou seekest or hast sought 
 Are me, although thou knowest it not. 
 And I shall draw thy dreaming thought 
 Forever. 
 
 Upon thy winged thought I ride. 
 Within thy deepest hope I hide. 
 Yea, in thy soul I shall abide 
 And keep thy heart forever vernal. 
 Far in the future I shall wait. 
 And though thou cornest worn and late 
 To me, yet here am I, thy fate 
 
 Eternal. (Vanish.) 
 
60 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Thy words give strength to my bewildered 
 heart. 
 I would that they might hear them, whom afar 
 I see in melancholy shattered train 
 Hitherward moving, with uneager feet. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Wail ye the dirge, 
 Wail the last cry 
 Of great things fallen. 
 We, out of toil, 
 Now have brought forth 
 Final destruction. 
 Over our heads. 
 Where shone the lights 
 Of the great cities. 
 Now hangs the vast 
 Vault of the night, 
 Lightless and barren. 
 Where, in the dawn, 
 Streamed up the loud 
 Clamor of traffic, 
 Now is the dead 
 Hush of a white 
 Terrible sunrise. 
 Bitter the days 
 Wherein we toiled. 
 Serfs of a master: 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 61 
 
 Bitterer now 
 When we look forth 
 
 Unto the future 
 
 All is undone ; 
 All goeth by 
 Of the old order. 
 And in the new, 
 Masters and Men 
 Wait for destruction. 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 As moves a host 
 Bearing great dead, 
 Sepulture-seeking, 
 So are our feet 
 Slow on the road 
 Leading us — whither? 
 
 Lo! ye have wrought 
 Ruin of all 
 We have upbuilded. 
 Ye have torn down 
 What not your hands 
 Ever can compass. 
 Out of the law 
 Ye have brought forth 
 Red fruit of ruin. 
 All the twined strings 
 
62 Cbe Breahing of Bonds 
 
 Of the great loom 
 Rent ye asunder. 
 Laugh now! Rejoice! 
 All ye desired 
 Ye have accomplished. 
 We are brought low ; 
 We are destroyed; — 
 And the world with us. 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 All ye most pitiful, here stay and rest, 
 Quit of the horrors of that bloody field. 
 How like a pestilence-stricken multitude 
 Your heavy steps ye bend. The straggling lines, 
 Ruined and broken, move like Autumn leaves. 
 Few and dismembered from their parent trunk. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 How can our steps move eagerly or strong.'' 
 Our mightiest have fallen, and the world 
 Lies rent and ruined. 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Aye, unspeakably 
 Have ye wrought ruin on yourselves at last. 
 And yet, sink not in downfall utterly. 
 At least the ancient days lie buried deep, 
 
Cbc Breaking of Bonds 63 
 
 With their tremendous weight of gathered woe. 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Whither shall we turn? Our cities lie in 
 waste ; 
 The fires of our furnaces are dead. 
 And of our Hves only remains to us 
 The blank reproach of midnight and of day. 
 Our folly leers at us from smoking pyres 
 And madness comes and looks us in the face. 
 We have o'erthrown our Masters ; we ourselves 
 In their vast fall likewise are hurled in dust. 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 Yea, the world's hope is trampled in the gulf 
 Of universal wreck. Imperial dreams, — 
 Great structures of the mind and of the hand, — 
 Colossal fabrics that the ages reared, — 
 All are demolished now. And what remains.? 
 
 THE MEN WHO lABOR 
 
 The elder bonds are gone : — what sorer bonds 
 Await us in a desolated world? 
 What new device of mastery shall be laid 
 Upon us, that too long we be not free? .... 
 If any path leads from this world of ruin, 
 Show it to us, that we may turn and part. 
 
64 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Can ye not build a new and fairer world, 
 Now that the ancient order is no more? 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 What! shall we toil, Masters and Men, once 
 
 more 
 To build a towering edifice whose stones 
 Once more grown tottering shall once more fall 
 
 down. 
 Shaken by convulsion of our children's pain? 
 Nay, better let us together seek the edge 
 Of the sea, and die, together finding peace. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE EIGHTH DAY OF CREATION 
 
 Behold, I come among you, — I whose hand 
 Ye oft have felt, and might not know it mine. 
 Each boon that led you upward I have given, — 
 Fire of your furnaces, fire of your hearts. 
 Resistless urging toward the uncreated. 
 Prophecy of the heights that stood afar. 
 
 THE MEN AND MASTERS 
 
 Why dost thou come among us, fearful Pres- 
 ence, 
 In this our downfall? Didst thou lead us also 
 To this, to make thy sport of our destruction? 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 65 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE EIGHTH DAY OF CREATION 
 
 I have shaped and set this doom; wherefore, 
 I speak: — 
 That from the earth might be annihilated 
 The freaked and crippled weeds upon my path. 
 Your life was as the tree which, foul and 
 
 knotted, 
 Smothers the hillside with its mouldy shade 
 And lifts its arms to heaven, cruel and exult- 
 ant, — 
 Till it draws down the lightning and is riven. 
 
 Have ye not guessed what I so long have 
 taught, — 
 An end beyond each individual life? 
 Ah, had ye halted in the bitter march 
 Of trampling progress toward the worthless 
 
 things, 
 This internecine strife had never come. 
 Until ye doomed yourselves ye were not doomed. 
 Blind ! Blind ! I lead you up the perilous steep 
 Of man's progression, and ye halt and stoop, 
 Kapt in a thousand vain or poisoned hopes, 
 And turn from the one hope that is the world's. 
 
 One thing alone is worth your straining 
 toil, — 
 To seek that way which in good time shall lead 
 Up toward the fairer future of mankind. 
 
66 Cbc Breaking of Bonds 
 
 Deep in the soul of each must rise the dream 
 Of man with higher powers, man more divine; 
 Flooded with light whose spark was on his brow 
 When he emerged from out creation's deeps, 
 The wonder and the mystery of the world. 
 As from the brute he grew in ages past, 
 A greater passion of exalted life 
 Shall thrill and glorify him, till he rise 
 Godlike and winged with his destiny. 
 Such is the fate I give and ye must take. 
 This is your pole-star. Crown nor crucifix 
 Suffice for this ; but in each secret heart 
 The light must spring, — a more than mortal 
 
 sense 
 Of ages leading ever toward new heights; 
 That the far generations, sweeping on, 
 Shall each see clearer, and descry at last 
 What wondrous destiny lies free to man. 
 
 Ye shall not see, nor shall your children 
 know, 
 In any waking vision or pale dream, 
 The far event. In the unfathomed sea 
 The blindest worm that crawls in awful darkness 
 As easily might comprehend the light 
 Set in the mind of a poet, as your hearts 
 Conceive what powers shall be in the race to 
 come. 
 
Cbe Breahing of Bonds 67 
 
 Yet trust ye may, seeing the flower and brute 
 That struggle unto Spirit, and knowing within 
 
 you 
 More eager struggle toward the spiritual 
 
 heights 
 Unseen but dimly felt around your path. 
 
 But far in distant ages, all the years 
 Of weary toil shall turn to their fulfillment. 
 The lesser falls ; the higher shall endure ; 
 And in the end, the Promised Land shall spread 
 Its vast aerial valleys at men's feet. 
 Greater mankind shall walk the walls of heaven 
 Yet never dreamed. And from the cloudy night 
 Of man's long martyrdom shall come the dawn. 
 
 Shall then your children come to this estate.? 
 Shall darkness, cruelty, blind suffering. 
 Despairs, and lost cries in the cavernous mist 
 Pass from men's hearts, and no man be op- 
 pressed ? 
 Shall man arise greater than men of yore. 
 And the race move with never faltering steps.? 
 This shall not be till ye have cast away 
 Devouring lust for total dominance, — 
 
 For power to hold fettered the lives of men, 
 
 To rule their toil, and bind in narrow want 
 The fair, free promptings of a fellow-soul. 
 
68 Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 For while these last, life struggles, — as in the 
 
 mountains 
 Imprisoned forces fight, till the world is riven. 
 The Spirit of Power must pass from out your 
 
 sky 
 Before can shine the new prophetic dawn. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF POWER 
 
 My name has been called through the silence ; 
 
 I come, and I find you once more. 
 Oh my children, awaiting my touch that shall 
 
 lead you to all you desire. 
 Think not I have ever departed or lessened the 
 
 love that I bore; 
 Ye are waves, I am sea; ye are stars, I am 
 
 night ; ye are brand, I am fire. 
 None other can lead and reward you ; my hands 
 
 hold dominion of earth 
 And lordship of waters : I proffer the banners of 
 
 heaven unfurled. 
 Rise up and acclaim me, who promise, when ye 
 
 have established your worth, 
 A mastery that grips with its hands the un- 
 
 tameable throat of the world. 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Terrible phantom, flee, for thine hour is past. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 
 
 O ye who knew the long night of oppression, 
 Joyless to both oppressor and oppressed, — 
 Ye who have felt convulsion of the fight, — 
 Can any more this fury lead you blinded? 
 Who is so great that he might hold this boon, — 
 This fearful boon of empire over men, — 
 Without destruction? Nay, forever turn 
 And leave this sower of universal woe 
 To cry in fury down the unpeopled wastes. 
 
 THE MEN WHO liABOE 
 
 Yea, turn thee from us. For we have followed 
 
 thee 
 Once to the brink of madness: now we know 
 
 thee 
 Born of the mind that has too long been stifled 
 In poisonous smoke. — ^And not again we follow 
 The trampling terrible pathways of thy feet. 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 We too abjure thee. For thou hast betrayed 
 
 us. 
 All joys of earth thy promise proffered us; 
 And thy fulfillment gave but worn unrest. 
 Here, fallen from our high estate we stand, 
 Thy victims. But though spent our ancient 
 
 might. 
 
70 Zhc Breaking of Bonds 
 
 Yet have we strength to cast thy spell aside 
 And curse thee to the uttermost end of time. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF POWER 
 
 O feeble hearts ! O bitter followers ! 
 Not twice do I entreat, who once commanded. 
 I leave you to the empty dull content 
 Of narrow days among the unconquered worlds. 
 The desert alone shall be my dwelling-place. . . . 
 
 THE WATCHER 
 
 Behold! it fades; a fire seems leaping up 
 Through the vast shape, and gnawing tongues 
 
 of flame 
 Destroy it momently. A cloud, — a mist 
 Remains, and ashes. But more noble forms 
 Mould from the ashes ; — lo ! a flower arises 
 White where the swaying phantom late has 
 
 stood. 
 
 MUSIC, AS FROM THE FLOWER 
 
 Peace has arisen. 
 Night-dew and rain 
 Wash from the stars 
 The dust of their stain ; 
 Lead the young flowers 
 Blooming again. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonde 71 
 
 Burdens no more 
 On the days shall be set. 
 All may together 
 Work in the debt 
 Unto the future, — 
 Work, and forget. 
 
 Slave and oppressor 
 Struggle no more. 
 Gone chain or crown 
 That they bitterly wore. 
 Living and dreaming 
 Days lie before. 
 
 No man shall perish 
 Sunken to clay. 
 Labor and hope 
 Shall be j oined in his day ; 
 Each, singing, traverse 
 In freedom his way. 
 
 Dawn has arisen. 
 Let the light glow. 
 Phantoms of midnight 
 No man shall know 
 Save as a sorrow 
 Dead long ago. 
 
72 Cbe Breabing of Bonds 
 
 THE MEN WHO LABOR 
 
 Behold, the end has come ; and the beginning 
 Of a new aeon in the shaken world. 
 That nameless spirit whose prophetic voice 
 But late has spoken, hovers o'er our thoughts, 
 Inspiring them with hope. We will create 
 Anew the order of men's lives and state 
 More justly, that the fabric shall endure. 
 Oppose us not in this our great emprise 
 Lest we, O Masters, chain ye at our feet ! 
 The fruits of labor shall no longer fall 
 Into the lap of some whom wealth has made 
 Pensioners of the rest's unwilling toil. 
 The age-long struggle of the slave and lord 
 Here ends ; and freedom reascends the world. 
 
 THE MASTERS 
 
 Thus sang they who the Tower of Babel 
 
 reared. 
 Yea, build anew your cherished universe. 
 Perhaps the day will come when ye shall fall 
 Powerless by the wayside, all confused 
 For lack of us, the Masters of your hate. 
 Then shall ye learn the folly of your dream, 
 And know that we, whose wise command did 
 
 guide 
 Colossal projects through their perilous course, 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 73 
 
 Rendered ye service greater than ye guessed. 
 Go, and create the world of your desire ; 
 Trouble us not, who, fallen, scorn ye still. 
 
 THE WATCHEE 
 
 In the hour when the mark 
 Of the fight stains each brow. 
 And the future is dark. 
 Then, brothers, avow 
 
 No bitterness unto each other. Let silence be 
 balm for you now. 
 
 Iron hand against hand 
 Ye have hfted of late. 
 As strangers ye stand. 
 Part now; and await 
 
 The slow work of years, which effaces all 
 wounds and all wrongs and all hate. 
 
 The fury ye knew 
 When ye stood face to face 
 Still pierces you through 
 In this blood-haunted place. 
 But Time shall annul it, whose rains even words 
 carved in granite erase. — 
 
74 Zhc Breahitig of Bonds 
 
 Time, the healer of all, 
 Dims the wrath and the fears : 
 And bedews each dark pall 
 With compassionate tears ; 
 
 And the bitterness fades deep in sorrowful 
 thought with remoteness of years. 
 
 And out of the madness 
 Of struggle and hate 
 First estrangement, then sadness. 
 Then, — slowly and late, — 
 
 Will emerge, at the last, understanding of each, 
 and the blindness of fate. 
 
 And foe meets the foe 
 And knows him for friend. 
 And together they go 
 In peace toward that end 
 
 Whither life and the forces beneath it and all 
 man's aspirings must tend. 
 
 And the wisdom of Time 
 Shall reveal and make plain 
 That the paths ye must climb 
 Are not many, nor twain. 
 
 But one, which till Time set, forever insepar- 
 ably one shall remain. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 75 
 
 From today it is far, 
 And your souls are oppressed. 
 As remote as a star 
 Seems that future where rest 
 From blind strife awaits the unborn. Yea, long 
 is the path of your quest. 
 
 The end is not wrought 
 In a moment's brief space. 
 The false dreams ye sought 
 Must slowly give place. 
 
 Ye must painfully heal, as years pass, the 
 wound that embitters the race. 
 
 But through the slow days. 
 Often baffled and vain. 
 Ye shall turn toward new ways 
 That your sons may attain 
 To a union of Master and Man, and forget the 
 long night of our pain. 
 
 Far as dawn in the skies 
 Is from valleys of earth. 
 That miracle lies 
 From ye now in your dearth. 
 Yet behold, if ye seek ye shall find it in won- 
 drous transitions of birth. 
 
76 Cbe Breahtng of Bonds 
 
 Who leaves day in sorrow 
 Shall greet her in song, 
 At the dawn of to-morrow, 
 When the cloud-peaks shall throng 
 With the forms of innumerable legions that 
 scatter their burdens of wrong. 
 
 For midnight doth sunder 
 Each day from the past. 
 With the might of its thunder 
 That rends through the vast 
 Abysm on the fire-winged steeds of the light- 
 ning: and dawn follows fast. 
 
 Behold, in the East 
 There arises a light. 
 As the flame which the Priest 
 Kindles on the pure height 
 
 Of the mountains where chariots of God bear 
 the lamps of the day and the night. 
 
 In this hour, let us part 
 From the pathways outworn, 
 And turn, as the heart 
 In adventure is borne. 
 
 Free and equal, with hope toward the luminous 
 heights, where behold! it is morn. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 77 
 
 Like the world ye have shattered 
 Your spirits are weak. 
 But the forces far-scattered 
 Turn home: yea, they speak 
 In your souls. Having compassed so much will 
 ye pause at the gate that ye seek? 
 
 Gone the bonds of the slave, 
 And the bonds of the lord. 
 To ye both the past gave 
 One fettering cord. 
 
 Lift we praise ! That the bonds of ye both could 
 be cleft by one stroke of God's sword. 
 
 Lift we praise ! that the years 
 Of a past that is dead 
 Could not stay ye with fears, 
 Could not numb ye with dread. 
 Could not bind the free soul, though worn was 
 the heart, though bowed was the head. 
 
 Lift we praise ! that from dark 
 Ye have dreamed of the light, — 
 That now ye embark 
 From the confines of night 
 Toward a dawn where the Kingdom of Man 
 shall arise on our wondering sight. 
 
78 Zhc Breaking of Bonds 
 
 Let the nobler day come. 
 No more are men bowed 
 In toil with souls dumb, 
 That our age may be proud 
 Of its engines and lights, its riches and scope, 
 — Saviors once it avowed. 
 
 No more is the guerdon 
 Of the world's hope, to wield 
 Vast power, and to burden 
 The masses, whose yield 
 
 Enriches the few, — while to all men the gate- 
 ways of peace are fast-sealed. 
 
 For our eyes have had vision 
 Through the shadows that furled, 
 Past all doubt, past derision. 
 Of one hope for the world, — 
 That each soul shall grow free in its strength, 
 and each barrier dustward be hurled. 
 
 Thus the high heart of man 
 Sees the ultimate mould. 
 Yet dark is the plan 
 That must slowly unfold. 
 
 Step by step we must fashion an order through 
 ways unbeheld, unforetold. 
 
Cbe Breaking of Bonds 79 
 
 So from dark the world grew. 
 On Creation's first day 
 Not the Lord thereof knew 
 Each step of the way, 
 Nor the growths that the years would bring 
 
 forth, nor the foes that should mar and 
 
 delay. 
 
 New Masters may rise, 
 But they shall not endure. 
 We shall push our emprise 
 Past each barrier and lure 
 
 Through ways that are dim, to an end that is 
 clear, with a hope that is sure. 
 
 Crowns of gold or of thorn 
 Are as phantoms that pale 
 In the infinite dusk ; 
 Yet one crown shall not fail, — 
 Yea, the crown of man's ultimate freedom that 
 over the world shall prevail. 
 
OCT 20 1910 
 
One copy del. to Cat, Div. 
 
 OCT 20 1910