A Nation In Decline?

Domini est terra, et plenitudo ejus.
The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof.


   It's almost the end of another week, a Friday, a bit gloomy, with thundershowers in the offing. April is speeding by.  The news is not uplifting. It is worrisome in all quarters, but especially the thought that the fate of our nation hangs on the coming presidential election - literally, I think.  Thumbing through a book of poetry, which I have a habit of doing when I feel a little down, I found two poems that spoke to me today.

                                              *******************************

Percy Bysshe Shelley's Ozymandias, portrays how finite are man's endeavors, grand though they might be. The great monarch long ago turned to dust as did his monument.  I wonder if our grand country, with its unique beginnings and fond hopes for a just and egalitarian world, is hastening toward it's consignment to dust. Almost uncontrollable forces are working to that end. I see our own Ozymandias leading the way.
Look on his works.

I met a traveler from an antique land,
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

                                              ************************************

Both the poems I chose are by Englishmen; but both of them seemed appropriate.  The second is
Recessional by Rudyard Kipling.  It requires no explanation. Interpret it at will.

God of our fathers, known of old,
   Lord of our far-flung battle-line.
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
   Dominion over palm and pine -
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget - lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies;
   The captains and the kings depart;
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
   An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget - lest we forget!

Far-called, our navies melt away;
   On dune and headland sinks the fire:
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
   Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget - lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
   Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe,
Such boastings as the Gentiles use,
   Or lesser breeds without the Law -
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
lest we forget - lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust
   In recking tube and iron shard,
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
   And, guarding, calls not Thee to guard,
For frantic boast and foolish word -
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord! 

                                             ***************************