Explore "Urbs Coronata (Songs for America)" by Henry Van Dyke on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O youngest of the giant brood / Of cities far-renowned; / In wealth and glory thou hast passed / Thy rivals at a bound; / Thou art a mighty queen, New York; / And how wilt thou be crowned?
"Weave me no palace-wreath of Pride,"
The royal city said; / "Nor forge of frowning fortress-walls / A helmet for my head; / But let me wear a diadem / Of Wisdom's towers instead."
She bowed herself, she spent herself, / She wrought her will forsooth, / And set upon her island height / A citadel of Truth, / A house of Light, a home of Thought, / A shrine of noble Youth.
Stand here, ye City College towers, / And look both up and down; / Remember all who wrought for you / Within the toiling town; / Remember all their hopes for you, / And _be_ the City's Crown.
June, 1908.