Some Brave, awake in you to-night, 
Knocked at your heart: an eagle?s flight 
Stirred in the feather on your head. 
Your wide-set Indian eyes, alight 
Above high cheek-bones smeared with red,
Unveiled cragg?d centuries, and led 
You, the snared wraith of bygone things? 
Wild ancestries of trackless Kings? 
Out of the past ... So men have felt 
Strange anger move them as they knelt 
Praying to gods serenely starred 
In heavens where tomahawks are barred.