69 



Empires have risen, tumbled to their fall, 



The throne of power been shrouded with the pall. 



Fortune's swift turniuij wheel brou,s;ht various fate. 



To mighty interests in church and state; 



But, midst them all, secure against their shock, 



The Institute, safe founded on a rock, 



Withstands the tempest and the billows' rage, 



And gives no sign of weakness or of age. 



E'en here at home, what changing scenes and powers 



Have marked the passage of those flying hours ! 



Tl'.e cherished city of our love and pride, 



Sitting so softly by the restless tide, 



Keeps only memories of that earlier time 



That brought the treasures of the Orient clime, 



Its silks, and fragrant gums, and spices sweet, 



To lay in willing tribute at her feet, 



And, o'er the common labor of the day, 



Throw the weird splendors of the far Cathay ; 



No more her ships come from the golden quest, 



Fanned by rich gales from Araby the Blest, 



And other works employ the busy hands, 



That gather gold no more from India's Sands. 



But naught of this disturbs our prosperous state. 



Nor checks our progress, ever growing great; 



Still ! star-eyed Science, running to and fro. 



Eager to find whatever man may know. 



Hunting in upper and in nether world. 



Mining in shell-heaps or through star-rack whirled, 



Contented here pulls ofl* her seven leagued boot. 



And makes her home the Esskx Institute. 



See, at our hearthstone, how she sits, and sends 



Her pupils forth to serve her various ends, — 



Some to dig Indians, some the sea to dredge. 



Some to filch treasures from the rocky ledge, 



Some to hunt bugs and spear them with a pin, 



As though bug-murder could not be a sin ; 



And when, i"eturning home with various hap. 



Their spoils they empty in her ample lap, 



She looks them o'er, and sorting out, she sends 



The second best to "corresponding" friends; 



The first and rarest for our use she "mounts," 



To be of knowledge the perennial founts. 



Nor this alone — for, lo ! on happy nights, 



'Midst breathless hush and half-extinguished lights, 



