Willful, and of the roots
of a great tree,
from every continent,
they shall, singing,
converse with the morn.
Seeing how they were, captives,
freed, and in their prime
harvested from earth’s mortal
snare and the toil of sweat.
Here, they shall be of one love
to rival youth, and the fortune
of the rich.
The poor shall gather in their arms
a woman of finest comely
gesture, and on a stage as a ballet,
she shall bring the ancient sheaves
to a royal coronation.
Emily Isaacson
