Provide the quickening age her mighty needs?
Can codes, half dead, framed in days long gone by,
The soul’s new wants, so manifold, supply?
New palaces of Science, Faith and Truth,
Tower o’er the humble dwellings of our youth.
Shall rule and State, then, in their old ways stand,
Denying Progress her supreme demand?
Yet stand they do, and with contemptuous pride,
Fling Reason, Progress, Hope and Faith aside.
Shall the soul’s mighty yearnings thus have end?