The Coming Man of the World
By: Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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.