The soil was dug for the monument here.
III.
And was there not, when his course began,
While clearing the ground for the life he had plann’d,
A time this crowd would have shrunk from the man
Whose image is now enthroned by the land?
Alas, how oft in youth’s chill morn
Their tears alone are the dews that adorn
The natures that wake
To the light of a day beginning to break!