Exchangeth he the seasons as they roll;
Thus nobly doth he vanquish, with renown,
The twilight and the night that weigh us down.
Brighter now glow'd his cheek, and still more bright.
With that unchanging, ever-youthful glow,—
That courage which overcomes, in hard-fought fight,
Sooner or later, ev'ry earthly foe—
That faith which, soaring to the realms of light,
Now boldly Presseth on, now bendeth low,
So that the good may work, wax, thrive amain,
So that the day the noble may attain.
Yet, though so skill'd, of such transcendent worth,
This boarded scaffold doth he not despise;
The fate that on its axis turns the earth
From day to night, here shows he to our eyes,
Raising, through many a work of glorious birth,
Art and the artist's fame up tow'rd the skies.
He fills with blossoms of the noblest strife,
With life itself, this effigy of life.
His giant-step, as ye full surely knew,