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 Not piles of masonry, or pomp,

Statue, nor marble bust,

Arrest oblivion, and preserve

The frame from kindred dust;

Yet how shall human spirits shine,

As shines the sparkling gem,

And, fadeless, glow like glorious stars

In night's fair diadem?

No spirit of the cultured East,

No wealth of skill nor pen,

No grain-fields of the widening West,

Avail to build true men;

No genius, born of earthly germs,

No haughty, base desire,

But nobler breath, imbreathed of God,

Wakes in the soul new fire.

O mystery of human life!

O wondrous end of man!

O theme, with curious questions rife,

With God's divinest plan, —-

Plan which no human mind can reach,

No human tongue can tell;

Too deep for angel's speech or thought,

Boundless, ineffable.

How doth the acorn from the germ

Become the mighty tree?

How grows the infant spark of thought,

Broader than land and sea?

The mighty oak its crumbling boughs

Back to earth's bosom gives;

But ages come, and ages pass, -

Mind, still expanding, lives.