Poems (David)/The Schools
THE SCHOOLS.
ON to our glorious Schools I wend my way,And thus once more, their honoured courts survey:— Their fine old walls have linked their noble fameWith thine proud Oxford's ever ancient name.There in sculptured grandeur and beauty riseTheir ancient pinnacles to the clear blue skies;How often have the great and honoured deadAroused thy slumbering echoes with their tread?Some have gone forth and with their cherished nameLinked to thy glory their own power and fame;And each fresh laurel added to their crown,Around thy name a nobler glory bound.Say, what is man—that in his little dayThe boasted joys or griefs should pass away?The time must come when earthly care no moreCan touch the icy heart; while, as of yore,The world its round of busy pleasures go,Nor on the vacant place one thought bestow.The golden visions of his power and fameFade, to the future age—an empty name!His vaunted wisdom lost!—The worm and rustHave trailed his cherished learning in the dust,His thoughts and acts are criticised no more;The world rolls on as thoughtless as of yore!Fast from his fellow-men his memory fadesInto oblivion, as the evening shades.