Oh, Washington! thou hero, patriot sage, Friend of all climes, and pride of every age!
His work well done, the leader stepped aside Spurning a crown with more than kingly pride. Content to wear the higher crown of worth, While time endures, "First citizen of earth."
How often in the summer-tide, His graver business set aside, His stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed As to the pipe of Pan, Stepped blithesomely with lover's pride Across the fields to Anne.
When Adam dalfe and Eve spane So spire if thou may spede, Where was then the pride of man, That nowe merres his mede?
For all of the creeds are false, and all of the creeds are true; And low at the shrines where my brothers bow, there will I bow too; For no form of a god, and no fashion Man has made in his desperate passion, But is worthy some worship of mine; Not too hot with a gross belief, Nor yet too cold with pride, I will bow me down where my brothers bow, Humble, but open eyed.
There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, Which to this day stands single, in the midst Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore.