The Students

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I looked behind you for the towers of music,And for the remembered words, blue hills of childhood;What human mind had touched yours to the quick?What passions, hungers streamed through your blood?Had you been Marie Curie or Keats or some sad queenDying in great pomp and pride alone?

Your grandfathers were huge with dreams,Crossed an ocean and half a continent, breathing hope;

© Sarton May