Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/182

POEMS OF OCCASION XXVII

That Power,—even that which doth impart a share

And semblance of divinity to our kind,—

Hold thee, dear Mother, here and everywhere,—

Thee and thy sons,—in care,

Through centuries yet still loftier use to find!

DARTMOUTH ODE

I

PRELUDE

and a voice from the North!

A courier-wind sent forth

From the mountains to the sea:

A summons borne to me

From halls which the Muses haunt, from hills where the heart and the wind are free!

(Such was the burden it bore,)

Hither! and sing us a song,

Far from the round of the town and the sound of the great world's roar!"

O masterful voice of Youth,

That will have, like the upland wind, its own wild way!

O choral words, that with every season rise

Like the warblings of orchard-birds at break of day!

O faces, fresh with the light of morning skies!

No marvel world-worn toilers seek you here,

Even as they life renew, from year to year,

In woods and meadows lit with blossoming May;

But O, blithe voices, that have such sweet power, 152