The Coming Man of the World By: Ella Wheeler Wilcox c. 1891
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 shall raise her song of praise, But for the Man to be.
For out of the strife which women Are passing through today, A man that is more than human Shall surely 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 God-like power, Shall come when he is wanted, Shall come at the needed hour. He shall silence the din and clamor Of clan disputing 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, And heralds that say he is on the way, The coming Man of the world.
Mourn not for the vanished ages With their grand, 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 work of this old earth In the Men that are to be.
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