But to the mighty West,
That chosen realm of God,
Where Nature reaches her hands to men,
And Freedom walks abroad -
Where mind is King, and fashion is naught,
There shall the New World look for thought
To the West, the beautiful West,
She shall look, and not in vain -
For out of its broad and boundless store
Come muscle, and nerve, and brain.
Let the bards of the East and the South be dumb -
For out of the West shall the Poets come.
They shall come with souls as great
As the cradle where they were rocked;
They shall come with brows that are touched with fire
Like the gods with whom they have walked;
They shall come from the West in royal state,
The Singers and Thinkers for whom we wait.
THE LAND OF CONTENT
I set out for the Land of Content,
By the gay crowded pleasure-highway,
With laughter, and jesting, I went
With the mirth-loving throng for a day;
Then I knew I had wandered astray,
For I met returned pilgrims, belated,
Who said, "We are weary and sated,
But we found not the Land of Content."
I turned to the steep path of fame,
I said, "It is over yon height -
This land with the beautiful name -
Ambition will lend me its light."
But I paused in my journey ere night,
For the way grew so lonely and troubled;
I said--my anxiety doubled -
"This is not the road to Content.
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