THE LAST (SIGNAL) MAN.

Of all dark shapes of human doom, The lot of darkest dye Is his whose soul must sole assume Responsibility!

I saw a vision in my sleep, The earth had swung with secular sweep To the last gulf of Time. I saw the last of human mould, Alone, unfriended, unconsoled As Adam when the night first rolled O'er Eden's early prime. The Sun's eye had a sickly glare, The Earth with age was wan; The wrecks of shattered thousands were Around that lonely man. Some had expired in pain,—its brands On clammy face and clutching hands,— In sudden palsy some. Among them was no sound or tread Even of Death among the dead, Pain's very voice was dumb. Still, statue-like, that lone one stood, With fixed earth-seeking eye, Silent as a flame-blasted wood When winds have all swept by. The last surviving unscathed One! His face was grey, his race was run, Cold as antarctic snow, Unmoved by hopes, untouched by fears, Left by the tide of human tears That never more may flow. He moaned, "No more shall man let stand His power, his pride, his skill; The arts that made fire, flood, and land The vassals of his will. Yet shall I mourn man's vanished sway, The Systems that have had their day? Out on the sordid arts, The triumphs with which earth once rang, The Progress which spared not one pang To trampled human hearts! "No; let oblivion's curtain fall On me too, last of men. I would not if I could recall Life's tragedy again. Its burden I would not bring back, Responsibility's iron rack No more shall make me writhe; No lapse of vision, loss of word, Shall make me feel a man abhorred, Strew earth with slain as by War's sword Or Death's relentless scythe. "No more with weary wandering eyes I'd watch, where, if I tire, Hundreds in hideous agonies May helplessly expire. No man that breathes mere mortal breath Alone should stand at odds with Death. Systems? O learning lost! On nerve, sight, sinew—human all, And apt to fail at urgent call— The bitter burden had to fall;— Behold at what a cost! "On me it fell, ah! not on Him, The Corporate Demon dark, Whose greed of gain gave systems dim Capricious action. Hark! The click, the crash! Nay, never mine— Thank Heaven!—again to watch the line With chill and catch of breath. The knowledge that at last I fly Thy rack, Responsibility, Takes all the sting from Death! "'Justice' no more shall hale me up To answer this wild waste Of human life. That bitter cup At least I shall not taste. Go, Sun, and say,—if e'er thy face Shine on another earthly race,— On what an ill-paid clod Man laid Responsibility— Because its Justice ruled awry, And Mammon was its god."