Sands at Seventy - Washington's Monument, February, 1885

Ah, not this marble, dead and cold:

Far from its base and shaft expanding - the round zones circling, comprehending,

Thou, Washington, art all the world's, the continents' entire - not yours alone, America,

Europe's as well, in every part, castle of lord or laborer's cot,

Or frozen North, or sultry South - the African's - the Arab's in his tent,

Old Asia's there with venerable smile, seated amid her ruins;

(Greets the antique the hero new? 'tis but the same - the heir legitimate, continued ever,

The indomitable heart and arm - proofs of the never-broken line,

Courage, alertness, patience, faith, the same - e'en in defeat defeated not, the same:)

Wherever sails a ship, or house is built on land, or day or night,

Through teeming cities' streets, indoors or out, factories or farms,

Now, or to come, or past - where patriot wills existed or exist,

Wherever Freedom, pois'd by Toleration, sway'd by Law,

Stands or is rising thy true monument.