Theodore Roosevelt

Now with the dust that bore him he is one,
  Silent, into into earth's silent maw ye laid him.
Dimmed is his light, as with the setting sun,
  He folds his steps unto the God who made him.
When shall the weak stand and rejoice again
  To see his banner in the battle's light?
When shall the humble hear his voice again
  Raised from the mountain of majestic right?
O ye shall see that banner gleam again
  High o'er the ramparts of a nation's goal;
O ye shall hear that voice redeem again
  The blood-stained conscience of a nation's soul.
Rise ye that tremble 'mid such fearful moan,
He stands anointed at Jehovah's throne.