Classic Poem

O God of Peace! now o'er the world
The armies rest, with banners furled:
O God of Toil! beneath thy sight
The toiling nations here unite;
O God of Beauty, bend and see
The Beautiful that shadows thee!

Our land, young hostess of the West,
Now first in festal raiment dressed,
Invites from every realm and clime
Her sisters of the elder time,
And bare of shield, ungirt by sword,
Bids welcome to her bounteous board.

Thy will, dear Father, gave to each
The force of hand, the fire of speech;
Thy guidance led from low to high,
Made failure still in triumph die,
And set for all, in fields apart,
The oak of Toil, the rose of Art!

What though, within thy plan sublime,
Our eras are the dust of time,
Yet unto later good ordain
This rivalry of heart and brain,
And bless, through power and wisdom won,
The peaceful cycle here begun!

Let each with each his bounty spend,
Now knowledge borrow, beauty lend!
Let each in each more nobly see
Thyself in him, his faith in Thee:
All conquering power Thy gift divine,
All glory but the seal of Thine!