The North Star whispers: "You are one Of those whose course no chance can change.
You blunder, but are not undone,
Your spirit-task is fixed and strange. "When here you walk, a bloodless shade,
A singer all men else forget.
Your chants of hammer, forge and spade Will move the prarie-village yet. "That young, stiff-necked, reviling town Beholds your fancies on her walls,
And paints them out or tears them down,
Or bars them from her feasting halls. "Yet shall the fragments still remain;
Yet shall remain some watch-tower strong That ivy-vines will not disdain,
Haunted and trembling with your song. "Your flambeau in the dusk shall burn,
Flame high in storms, flame white and clear;
Your ghost in gleaming robes return And burn a deathless incense here."
