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Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox


The Coming Man


Oh, not for the great departed,
   Who formed our country's laws,
And not for the bravest-hearted
   Who died in freedom's cause,
And not for some living hero
   To whom all bend the knee,
My muse would raise her song of praise--
   But for the man to be.

For out of the strife which woman
   Is passing through to-day,
A man that is more than human
   Shall yet be born, I say.
A man in whose pure spirit
   No dross of self will lurk;
A man who is strong to cope with wrong,
   A man who is proud to work.

A man with hope undaunted,
   A man with godlike power,
Shall come when he most is wanted,
   Shall come at the needed hour.
He shall silence the din and clamor
   Of clan disputing with clan,
And toil's long fight with purse-proud might
   Shall triumph through this man.

I know he is coming, coming,
   To help, to guide, to save.
Though I hear no martial drumming,
   And see no flags that wave.
But the great soul travail of woman,
   And the bold free thought unfurled,
Are heralds that say he is on the way--
   The coming man of the world.

Mourn not for vanished ages
   With their great heroic men,
Who dwell in history's pages
   And live in the poet's pen.
For the grandest times are before us,
   And the world is yet to see
The noblest worth of this old earth
   In the men that are to be. 



Ella Wheeler Wilcox


Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
  1. The Birth of the Orchid
  2. The Call (All wantonly in hours of joy)
  3. Be Not Attached
  4. Behold the Earth
  5. The Black Charger


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