Classic Poem

Heir of all the ages, I, —
Heir of all that they have wrought,
All their store of emprise high,
All their wealth of precious thought!

Every golden deed of theirs
Sheds its lustre on my way;
All their labors, all their prayers,
Sanctify this present day.

Heir of all that they have earned
By their passion and their tears:
Heir of all that they have learned
Through the weary, toiling years;

Heir of all the faith sublime
On whose wings they soared to heaven;
Heir of every hope that time
To earth's fainting sons hath given;

Aspirations pure and high,
Strength to do and to endure;
Heir of all the ages, I, —
Lo, I am no longer poor!