OUR Father! while our hearts unlearn
The creeds that wrong thy name,
Still let our hallowed altars burn
With Faith's undying flame!
...
THREE paths there be where Learning's favored sons,
Trained in the schools which hold her favored ones,
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O'ERSHADOWED by the walls that climb,
Piled up in air by living hands,
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TWICE had the mellowing sun of autumn crowned
The hundredth circle of his yearly round,
When, as we meet to-day, our fathers met:
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