For Each Age Is A Dream That

But On One Man's Soul It Hath Broken, / A Light That Doth Not Depart; / And His Look, Or A Word He Hath Spoken, / Wrought Flame In Another Man's Heart.

We, In The Ages Lying In The Buried Past Of The Earth, Built Nineveh With Our Sighing, And Babel Itself With Our Mirth; And O'erthrew Them With Prophesying To The Old Of The New World's Worth; For Each Age Is A Dream That Is Dying, Or One That Is Coming To Birth.

For Each Age Is A Dream That Is Dying, Or One That Is Coming To Birth.

A Breath Of Our Inspiration Is The Life Of Each Generation; A Wondrous Thing Of Our Dreaming Unearthly, Impossible Seeming — The Soldier, The King, And The Peasant Are Working Together In One, Till Our Dream Shall Become Their Present, And Their Work In The World Be Done.

A Breath Of Our Inspiration / Is The Life Of Each Generation.