The Song Of The Dead - Rudyard Kipling
We were dreamers, dreaming greatly, in the man-stifled town; We yearned beyond the sky-line where the strange roads go down. Came the Whisper, came the Vision, came the Power with the Need, Till the Soul that is not man's soul was lent us to lead. ... Follow after -- we are waiting, by the trails that we lost, For the sounds of many footsteps, for the tread of a host. Follow after -- follow after -- for the harvest is sown: By the bones about the wayside ye shall come to your own!