The trumpets bore his name afar
By East and West anew,
Where, roaring through the riven tape
The sweeping Conqueror drew.
And East and West they rose and blest
With laurel wreath and cheers,
As they had done ’neath every sun
Adorn the countless years.
The trumpets echoed far ahead--
A faltering footfall trailed,
Till broken flesh that called on flesh
Stumbled and rocked and failed.
A well run dry--a sightless sky--
Where mind and matter part:
A quivering frame--a nameless name--
Wrapped in a lion’s heart.
The nearer stars they winded him--
The farther planets heard;
The outer spheres of all the spheres
Took up the Master’s word.
They lifted him and bouyed him
And bore him gently in
To the Goal of Lost Endeavor--
In the Land of Might-have-been.