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(Excerpt)
AMID the elms that interlace | |
| Round Harvard’s grounds their branches tall, | |
| We greet no walls of statelier grace | |
| Than thine, our proud Memorial Hall. | |
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| Through arching boughs and roofs of green, | 5 |
| Whose dappled lights and shadows lie | |
| Along the turf and road, is seen | |
| Thy noble form against the sky. | |
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| And miles away on fields and streams, | |
| Or where the woods the hill-tops crown, | 10 |
| The monumental temple gleams, | |
| A landmark to each neighboring town. | |
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| Nor this alone. New England knows | |
| A deeper meaning in the pride | |
| Whose stately architecture shows | 15 |
| How Harvard’s children fought and died. | |
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| Therefore this hallowed pile recalls | |
| The heroes young and true and brave, | |
| Who gave their memories to these walls, | |
| Their lives to fill the soldier’s grave. | 20 |
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| The farmer, as he drives his team | |
| To market in the morn, afar | |
| Beholds the golden sunrise gleam | |
| Upon thee, like a glistening star. | |
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| And gazing, he remembers well | 25 |
| Why stands yon tower so fair and tall; | |
| His sons, perhaps, in battle fell: | |
| For him, too, shines Memorial Hall. | |
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| And sometimes as the student glides | |
| Along the winding Charles, and sees | 30 |
| Across the flats thy glowing sides | |
| Above the elms and willow-trees, | |
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| Upon his oar he ’ll turn and pause, | |
| Remembering the heroic aims | |
| Of those who linked their country’s cause | 35 |
| In deathless glory with their names. * * * * * | |
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