WHILE yet their fagots scarce had burned On Alma Mater's altar fire, With Life's long lessons still unlearned, They left our land of dear desire. Ambition had not plumed its wings Nor genius won its myrtle crown, Before they passed to higher things, Laying the lesser laurels down. They clasped at once the Holy Grail Across the dark, mysterious stream, Yet I hear voices on the gale And still behold them stand and dream. Like figures on a Grecian vase, Which foot nor finger ne'er can raise, I see them as they quit the race Along the course of college days. And I who must press on and fight Far through the fields of future years Have shrined these men in hallowed light, Blessing their memories with tears. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COUNTRY SCHOOLROOM, ADIRONDACK MOUNTAINS by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE BALLAD OF LOVELY LADYES OF LONG AGOE by FRANCOIS VILLON THE STORY OF SEVENTY-SIX by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT TO THE CASTLE OF DONEGAL by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM |