Classic Poem

Let the wind be a whirl of trumpets
A flying clarion cry
Let the bronze and gold of the woodland
As banners flicker and fly
For a fruit to the fruits is gathered
Worth all that the world is worth
To the suns and the seas and the meadows
— A love is born on the earth.

Have the powers crept close to the grapple?
Have the kings in the dawn grown pale?
Is there war or peace or destruction,
Is there truce or treaty or sale?
Sing men of charges and watchwords,
Of truths of times unfurled?
Sing men of crowds and a question;
I sing of two and the world.

Let the wind be a whirl of trumpets
A flying clarion cry,
Let the bronze and gold of the woodland
As banners flicker and fly
For a fruit to the fruits is gathered,
Worth all that the world is worth
Cry aloud, ye tongues of the forest
A love is born on the earth