Towards democracy

One at a Time 411

Saving, redeeming, drawing all to thee, Yet outcast, slandered, pointed of the mob, Misjudged and crucified.

Dear Son of heaven—long suffering wanderer through the wildernesses of civilisation—

The day draws nigh when from these’ mists of ages

Thy form in glory clad shall reappear.

One at A TIME

MILLION faces, loves, bodies, lives—a million souls, je Pouring down Time—

As in a dream I see, and know my own.

All nations, classes, trades, ranks, temperaments,

[The soldier’s cap, the felon’s crop, the bishop’s mitre,

Under the eyelids of the peasant woman, beneath the burnous of the Arab chieftain, |

A million souls, yet from the rest at once distinguishedby the first glance revealed—

I see, and know my own.

[Nay through the ages, loved ones, true to you, Inseparable at heart I still remain, Nor doubt you for an instant, nor myself, ]

But here, to-day, may-be of all One only The hour, the strict Eternity of Time, Presents—and I accept