Not by thy thousand colleges and schools,
But culture greater than their sums and rules;
Not by thy topmost reach of speech and song,
But by their lift of light and art that’s long,
And from the mingling races in thy blood,
The wane of evil and the growth of good;
Not the high-seated but the undertrod;
The brother love of man for man,
Ideals not ambitions in the van;
Not thy lip-worship but the imminence of God.