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 prairie-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."

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