Then I hid me close to the reedy tarn, Where the mammoth came to drink; Through brawn and bone I drave the stone And slew him upon the brink. - Langdon Smith

Yet happy we lived and happy we loved,
And happy we died once more;
Our forms were rolled in the clinging mold
Of a Neocomian shore. The eons came and the eons fled And the sleep that wrapped us fast
Was riven away in a newer day And the night of death was past.

God wrought our souls from the Tremadoc beds And furnished them wings to fly;
We sowed our spawn in the world's dim dawn, And I know that it shall not die,
Though cities have sprung above the graves Where the crook–bone men made war
And the ox–wain creaks o'er the buried caves Where the mummied mammoths are.

And that was a million years ago In a time that no man knows;
Yet here tonight in the mellow light We sit at Delmonico's.
Your eyes are deep as the Devon springs, Your hair is dark as jet,
Your years are few, your life is new, Your soul untried, and yet —