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Poem by Henry Van Dyke


Urbs Coronata


(Song for the City College of New York) 

O youngest of the giant brood 
Of cities far-renowned;
In wealth and power thou hast passed
Thy rivals at a bound;
And now thou art a queen, New York;
And how wilt thou be crowned? 

Weave me no palace-wreath of pride,
The royal city said;
Nor forge an iron fortress-wall
To frown upon my head;
But let me wear a diadem
Of Wisdoms towers instead. 

And so upon her island height
She worked her will forsooth,
She set upon her rocky brow
A citadel of Truth,
A house of Light, a home of Thought,
A shrine of noble Youth. 

Stand here, ye City College towers,
And look both up and down; 
Remember all who wrought for you
Within the toiling town; 
Remember all they thought for you, 
And all the hopes they brought for you,
And be the Citys Crown.



Henry Van Dyke


Henry Van Dyke's other poems:
  1. The Statue of Sherman by St. Gaudens
  2. The Empty Quatrain
  3. Christ of Everywhere
  4. Hesper
  5. Sea-Gulls of Manhattan


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