The College of the City

SAW you the stately palace that stands
Fronting the wind-swept sky?
The stately palace, reared on a height,
In the teeth of the winds of the sky ?

Nobler than ever a lordly hold,
Greater than kingly keep,
Or the mightiest fastness, buttress-bound.
Where a thousand legends sleep;

For a legion camps there, eager-eyed,
Flushed with the spirit’s fires;
They,whom the elder lands would not —
Younger sons of the sires!

Shoulder to shoulder — a stubborn breed!
There stirs in the atrophied vein,
The quickened pulse of a soul re-born —
The prophets’ dormant strain.

Brother and brother — parched of their thirst!
They drink at the fountain head;
They taste of the manna long denied;
They eat of the fruit and are fed.

Again! Yet again — the waters of life!
You shall hear from them, country mine!
Hewers and builders, captains of men,
Thinkers, poets divine —

These, whom the elder lands would not !
Patience, fools! Ye shall see.
For a nation reapeth as it hath sown,
And the reaping is yet to be!