No more the quest, the quiet lamp invite,
No longer the quick pageantry of school.
They master graver books, by sterner light,
Who have gone forth to set old error right,
Staying the crimson hand that built on might,
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Taught Honor was a knave and Truth a fool.
They have left all for Honor, till Truth rule.
Bitter their sacrifice,--but old harms die,
The sad Old Order totters, as they sweep
Across the shattering night and lift a cry
Along the darkness: "Come, the dawn dawn nigh.
Too dear your old red night.--Ye wake or die!
Come a new world for an old, ere Justice reap!"
Thus from their toil new orders lift and leap.
Ah ye whom Fate denies to hold the van
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The Harvard Regiment.
