The Spirit of Dartmouth Hall
ON the edge of the sombre northern woods, In the winters of long ago, I summoned my Indian children forth From the lands of the sparkling snow; They came and went, and came no more, But beneath my roof-tree strong The pale-face dwelt in the red man's stead; I waited, waited long.
II I remember the hard and bitter time Of poverty and strife, When the little college a few men loved Was battling for its life; My Webster raised his godlike arm To rescue me from wrong, And win me back my chartered rights; I waited, waited long.
III I stood on guard for six score years, Through hours that were bright or dark; And I never cared if they laughed at me Or called me Noah's Ark; For I always knew what they really felt, My dear and loyal throng, And't was nothing but praise in my latest days; I waited, waited long.
IV At last my fated morning came, And doom of fiery breath; To the winds of the sky my spirit flew, My body to ashen death. I live in the hearts of thousands of sons, In story, speech, and song, But I'm lonely away from my earthly home; I wait, I wait—how long?
