Full-Burnished Through The Long-Revolving Years The Ploughshare Of A Century To-Day Runs Peaceful Furrows Where A Crop Of Spears Once Stood In War'S Array. And We, Like Those Who On The Trojan Plain See Hoary Secrets Wrenched From Upturned Sods; - Who, In Their Fancy, Hear Resound Again The Battle-Cry Of Gods; - We Now, - This Splendid Scene Before Us Spread Where Freedom'S Full Hexameter Began - Restore Our Epic, Which The Nations Read As Far Its Thunders Ran. Here Visions Throng On People And On Bard, Ranks All A-Glitter In Battalions Massed And Closed Around As Like A Plum'D Guard, They Lead Us Down The Past. I See Great Shapes In Vague Confusion March Like Giant Shadows, Moving Vast And Slow, Beneath Some Torch-Lit Temple'S Mighty Arch Where Long Processions Go. I See These Shapes Before Me, All Unfold, But Ne'er Can Fix Them On The Lofty Wall, Nor Tell Them, Save As She Of Endor Told What She Beheld To Saul.