by John Vance Cheney
Plato come back to turn a Yankee phrase,
Franklin recalled to lord the world of soul—
So came he, so he journeyed, sane and whole,
The Concord pilgrim on the upper ways.
Born to her lap, his heart was ever May's.
In vernal terms he read to us the scroll
Of time; he chanted from the magic roll:
We knew the joy and beauty of the days.
He read to us until his sight grew dim—
Blinded with brightness from beyond the sun—
Then followed he the glory from afar.
But not until a race had learned of him
The murmurs of eternity that run
Through human hearts, the blossom and the star.
Last updated January 14, 2019