BRONZE
TO RICHARD R. WRIGHT—INSTRUCTOR
Son of a race, whose dusky visage showsThe heel of fortune, those who walk unfreeThough cradled in the hold of liberty,Whose shackled spirit every gamut knowsOf Hate's cadenza, through whose warm blood flowsThe royal ransom of love's dynasty,Scion of these, he strides to meet his foes.
Erect, unbending, note his sable brow,The rugged furrows where deep feelings plough,The step of vigor and the noble air,The subtle halo of his wintry hair,Up from the furnace of the Earth's red seaA man is fashioned for the years to be!
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