America! America! in spite of all the surreptitious bonds that in thy sleep have been laid upon thee yet pregnant thy womb is with men of nerve—men of valor—men of might. Lo! the hour approacheth when, in dire travail, thou shalt give birth unto thunderbolts, and Joves to handle them.

Behold that time cometh! Nay, it is at hand! But it will not be a period of pure delight. No! No! It will be a day of wrath, a dreadful day—a day of judgement, tribulation, triumph. And lo! a new nobility shall be born unto thee, furious and unrelenting, O America! for our time here hath proven only that there shall be a new Epoch to master, whatever brings the future.

Whoso maketh himself a dove shall be eaten by the hawk. I have seen the stirrings and have felt the ripples, for this incoming age of ‘decentralization’ is as no different from other disparate ages; power cometh to he who conquers, in love, in war and in the game of nations, thus a truth is spoken. The sword shall, always and forever, be the kingmaker and breaker—Let all other myths be heaped up in the Void where the wreckage of forgott'n and useless things pile. The proud refrain to trumpet aloud:

"I dream of an empire as great—
And prouder than Rome of old,
With its temples and towers of Fate—
Its Eagles of war and Gold."