Give thanks, O heart, for the high souls
That point us to the deathless goals—
For all the courage of their cry
That echoes down from sky to sky;
Thanksgiving for the armed seers
All heroes called to mortal years—
Souls that have built our faith in man,
And lit the ages as they ran.
Lincoln, Mazzini, Lamennais,
Doing the deeds that others pray;
Cromwell, St. Francis, and the rest—
Bearing the God-fires in the breast—
These are the sons of sacred flame,
Their brows marked with the Sacred Name—
The company of souls supreme,
The conscripts of the mighty dream.
Made of unpurchaseable stuff,
They went the way when ways were rough;
They, when the traitors had deceived,
Held the long purpose and believed;
They, when the fade of God grew dim,
Held through the dark and trusted Him—
Brave souls that took the perilous trail
And felt the vision could not fail.
Give thanks for heroes that have stirred
Earth with the wonder of a word,
But all thanksgiving for the breed
Who have bent destiny with deed—
Souls of the high, heroic birth,
Souls sent to poise the shaken earth,
And then called back to God again
To make Heaven possible for men.
More in This Issue« The March Past (Poem) |
- Full name: Charles Edwin Anson Markham
- Born on April 23rd, 1852 in Oregon City, Oregon and died on March 7th, 1940
- American poet
- Was Poet Laureate (officially appointed to compose poems for special events and occasions) of Oregon from 1923 to 1931.
- Most famout poem is "The Man with the Hoe".