Classic Poem

Fair Harvard, the winter of Puritan snows
That enshrouded thy tremulous birth
Melts slowly to spring, now the south wind blows
O'er the face of this generous earth.

Thy elms are outspreading their flexible arms
Over meadows more fruitful and broad,
And soft ivy is veiling with negligent charms
The gaunt walls of the castle of God.

With freedom for heritage, reason for star,
And friendship for sojourner here,
Shall music long tremblingly sound from afar
Or genius be smothered in fear?

Where the ages may meet and the spirit may climb
To a truth that is builded on doubt,
The eternal may dwell mid the currents of time
And peace above barbarous rout,

And the just voice unlearn to be strident and sharp,
And, attuned to life's happier choir,
Join the stress of all David might shout to his harp
With all Lysis might lisp to his lyre,

And Olympia again call the strong and the fleet
To glory and art and control,
And a deathless Academy build a retreat
To ponder the things of the soul.

If to glory, young Mother, thy destiny tend,
If thy labours have honour in store,
Our loves shall not die, though their chronicle end
Nor mortals remember us more.

For once from their dreaming the man and the boy,
Fair Harvard, awoke at thy name,
And our happiest years were a part of thy joy,
And our light was a spark of thy flame.