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

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.

I carved that fight on a reindeer bone With rude and hairy hand;
I pictured his fall on the cavern wall That men might understand.
For we lived by blood and the right of might Ere human laws were drawn,
And the age of sin did not begin Till our brutal tusks were gone.

Our love is old, our lives are old, And death shall come amain;
Should it come today, what man may say We shall not live again?