Great builder of a temple new!
Ruler, who sought no lordly place!
Warrior, who sheathed the sword he drew!
Lover of men, who saw afar
A world unmarred by want or war,
Who knew the path, and yet forbore
To tread, till all men should implore;
Who saw the light, and led the way
Where the gray world might greet the day;
Father and leader, prophet sure,
Whose will in vast works shall endure,
How shall we praise him on this day of days,
Great son of fame who has no need of praise?

How shall we praise him? Open wide the doors
Of the fair temple whose broad base he laid.
Through its white halls a shadowy cavalcade
Of heroes moves o'er unresounding floors--
Men whose brawned arms upraised these columns high,
And reared the towers that vanish in the sky,--
The strong who, having wrought, can never die.

* * * * *

WASHINGTON'S STATUE

BY HENRY THEODORE TUCKERMAN

The quarry whence thy form majestic sprung
Has peopled earth with grace,