A homely god to listening Youth
Eager to tear the veil of Truth;
* * * * *
Mild votaries of book and pen--
Alas, the dreams, the dreams of men!

A music land, whose life is wrought
In movements of melodious thought;
In symphony, great wave on wave--
Or fugue, elusive, swift, and grave;
A singing land, whose lyric rhymes
Float on the air like village chimes:
Music and Verse--the deepest part
Of a whole nation's thinking heart!
* * * * *
Oh land of Now, oh land of Then!
Dear God! the dreams, the dreams of men!

Slave nation in a land of hate,
Where are the things that made you great?
Child-hearted once--oh, deep defiled,
Dare you look now upon a child?
Your lore--a hideous mask wherein
Self-worship hides its monstrous sin:--
Music and verse, divinely wed--
How can these live where love is dead?
* * * * *
Oh depths beneath sweet human ken,
God help the dreams, the dreams of men!