Classic Poem

Your vision keen, unerring when the blind,
Who could not see, turned, groping, from the light,
Your sentient knowledge of the wise and right
Have won to-day the freedom of mankind.
Honor to whom the honor be assigned!
Mightier in exile than the men whose might
Is of the sword alone, and not of sight,
You march beside the victor host aligned.
Had not your spirit soared, our ardent youth
Had faltered leaderless; their eager feet,
Attuned to effort for the valiant truth
Through your command, rushed, swiftly to compete
To hold on high the torch of Liberty —
Great-visioned Soul, yours is the victory!