H.T.N.
Introduction.
The golden age—when men were
brothers all,
The golden rule their law and God their
king;
When no fierce beasts did through the
forests roam,
Nor poisonous reptiles crawl upon the
ground;
When trees bore only wholesome, luscious
fruits,
And thornless roses breathed their sweet
perfumes;
When sickness, sin and sorrow were unknown,
And tears but spoke of joy too deep for
words;
When painless death but led to higher
life,
A life that knows no end, in that bright
world
Whence angels on the ladder Jacob saw,
Descending, talk with man as friend to
friend—
That age of purity and peace had passed,
But left a living memory behind,
Cherished and handed down from sire to
son
Through all the scattered peoples of the
earth,
A living prophecy of what this world,
This sad and sinful world, might yet become.
The silver age—an age of faith,
not sight—
Came next, when reason ruled instead of
love;
When men as through a glass but darkly
saw
What to their fathers clearly stood revealed
In God’s own light of love-illumined
truth,
Of which the sun that rising paints the
east,
And whose last rays with glory gild the
west,
Is but an outbirth. Then were temples
reared,
And priests ’mid clouds of incense
sang His praise
Who out of densest darkness called the
light,
And from His own unbounded fullness made
The heavens and earth and all that in
them is.
Then landmarks were first set, lest men
contend
For God’s free gifts, that all in
peace had shared.
Then laws were made to govern those whose
sires
Were laws unto themselves. Then
sickness came,
And grief and pain attended men from birth
to death.
But still a silver light lined every cloud,
And hope was given to cheer and comfort
men.
The brazen age, brilliant but cold, succeeds.
This was an age of knowledge, art and
war,
When the knights-errant of the ancient
world,
Adventures seeking, roamed with brazen
swords
Which by a wondrous art—then
known, now lost—
Were hard as flint, and edged to cut a
hair
Or cleave in twain a warrior armor-clad
And armed with shields adorned by Vulcan’s
art,
Wonder of coming times and theme for bards.[1]
Then science searched through nature’s
heights and depths.
Heaven’s canopy thick set with stars
was mapped,
The constellations named, and all the
laws searched out
That guide their motions, rolling sphere
on sphere.[2]
Then men by reasonings piled up mountain
high
Thought to scale heaven, and to dethrone
heaven’s king,
Whose imitators weak, with quips and quirks
And ridicule would now destroy all sacred
things.
This age great Homer and old Hesiod sang,
And gods they made of hero, artist, bard.