Here is a little piece of glass
Set in a tube of shining brass.
Through it had passed in grand review
All that the world’s heart ever knew
Of joy, hope, sorrow, love and fears,
The ceaseless struggle of the years,
The darkest schemes the evil know,
The noblest service men can show.
Through it the risen dead have walked,
The spectres of the past have stalked.
Hope realized has lingered there,
Likewise the shape of dark despair.
This bit of glass is seasoned well,
For human tongue could never tell
The half it knows of peace and strife,
And all that makes the old world’s life.