Revolving on through endless years, To soar above thy fellows, learn The dust around thee not to spurn. While thrilling with a holy pride, And freed from all that chained it here, With trusting confidence rely On Him who placed those orbs on high, And show through all His works beneath, And all for man! th' Almighty made To glad the heart and please the sight. And would He frame a world like this, And mould material things so fair, If man alone shut out from bliss, Were doomed to linger wretched there? Beside the many fountains found In all external nature round, Which, sought for, will the seeker bless, Man has within deep springs of joy, Unnumbered and without alloy, That yield enduring happiness. The mind itself-that spark divine, Of noble thoughts and vast desires! Our race to beings of the skies! The mind itself in its own sphere, Can ever make an Eden here. On tireless pinions it can soar, Beyond the bounds of time and space, The mysteries of the stars explore, And all their hidden wanderings trace; Mount up to other worlds, and pierce The secrets of the universe! With powers expanding in their flight, And quenchless aspirations fond, For something purer and more bright, It ever seeks some new delight, How godlike their transcendent power! But grasps the future and unknown, Fills with ideal joys the breast, And frames creations of its own! But dearer bliss is found below, Or fancy yield, or mind bestow, The kindling transports of the heart! And even soothe away despair. The cares that cling round middle age, Hail, rapture-giving power, brought From heaven, with heaven's own essence fraught, Mysterious love, that lights the throne Of the unseen, eternal One; Fills every cherub's breast with fire, True mutual hearts live fondly on, And blend their beings into one. Such are the joys that with their sunshine gild Its pleasures dazzle e'en the steadiest eyes; Who hopes and strives is sure to win the prize. Our country calls, we haste at her command; But some familiar forms are wanting here— One after one they left our little band, And we were mourners o'er a classmate's bier! In all the flush of youthful pride they came, The steep of science with ourselves to climb, They dreamed of life, and usefulness and fame, But fell beneath the reaper ere their prime. Yet they are happy in those realms above Their virtues won, and from their kindred skies Perchance watch o'er us with their wings of love! Green be their graves, and fresh their memories. And now the parting moment hastens near- Fond memory oft shall from its flower-strewn track, The blissful hours that fleeted here recall, And roaming fancy love to wander back, And dwell once more within this classic hall. 'Tis sweet to linger! it is hard to part! And anguish'd feelings in the bosom swell, Sad thoughts too deep for words oppress the heart— Friends of my youth, a long, a last farewell! |