(From Valor magazine, Vol.2, no.11, January 12, 1952)

And I laid me down. And sleep came upon me. And in my sleep I behold a Vision! Behold there were
waters and over them heavens. And the waters were darkened because of the heavens. Their billows
were chill. The skies had a famine.

And behold I saw a ship whose pride cleaved the spume crests. Its sheets were as daybreak. Deep-set in
steel billows it moved with a glory. And behold, as it neared to the shores of my watchings, a rune lifted
clear from the shields on its oarlocks.

“We are those who come singing in that Light hath renowned us, in that conflict hath sired us,
in that bright gods of ennobled kingdoms have bestowed on us their embassies. We are those who
have seen with the vision-sweep of ages that the lives of men are Destinies, that evils are but challenges,
that in every soul lurketh the summons to accolades. We are the Voyagers, we carry the Beacons, we are
the Chieftains and the strong mates of Chieftains. We see a pure blood, a proud brevet, a wreathed chivalry.
The tramp of our armor rolls hard up the worlds. We are the new Northmen who have steered our
staunch craft by the Star of the Manger, who come as a tocsin to incite men to valors….”

They were a cargo of mighty men though their ranks were but a handful. Strong-carved were their eyes
and the hills of their bodies. Among them were women. Their hair was clean yellow. Their hard thighs
were hewn for the child-birth of heroes. Their breast, unashamed, were as rich founts of vigors…. And the
hardy comrades raised voice amongst themselves:

“We are called to this people to rescue a birthright. The horns of our bonnets are as petards of alchemies
to break through foul bulwarks and level vast infamies. We come as the sculptors of the pure in heart, to
summon our kinsmen around council fires of probities. We seek naught for ourselves but enlistments unto
Excellence. The God of our Fathers hath given us enthronement. We are your Better Selves, envisioned
for Life’s Pinnacles….”

And forthwith they deployed, their axes glistening brightly. They bestrode a stricken firmament and
wrought a sweet havoc. And behold, the darkness lifted. The sea took its marplots. The vistas showed
wheat fields and the nights were hushed sacraments. Men cried in a paean birthed of contriteness:

“Lo, the New Vikings have essayed to this Vineland! We are captains of our hungers as these Voyagers
bring us dignities.”

Where went the Dream? Whereof did I dream it? I only behold the White Conquerors voyaging inward
afresh from the ocean of the aeons. That was my Patmos ….I SAW THE IMMORTALS!

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