A thousand pears doth Nature plan

Upon the making of a Man;

She sweeps the generations through

To find the patient, strong and true;

She rends the surge of seven seas,

Rearing an humble Socrates;

She burns a hundred years of sun,

Sealing the soul of Solomon.

A thousand years doth Nature plan

Upon the making of a Man;

She sees the ages dawn apace

Ere Moses rouse his shackled race,

Or Homer or sweet Shakespeare sing,

Beside the deep, eternal spring:

The centuries rise in reverence when

Buddha doth come unto his men.

A thousand years doth Nature plan

Upon the making of a Man;

She fills his heart with fire and faith,

She leaves him loyal unto death;

She lights his lustrous, loving eye

With flash of immortality;

She adds one more undying name

Upon the lighted scroll of Fame.

-Robert Loveman