Right in the breast of the seething town Like a gleaming gem or a wanton's gown? Ah, wonderful things that tulip bed Unto my listening soul has said. Over the rattle and roar of the street I hear a chorus of voices sweet, Day and night, when I pass that way, And these are the things the voices say: "Here, in the heart of the foolish strife, We live a simple and natural life. "Here, in the midst of the clash and din, We know what it is to be calm within. "Here, environed by sin and shame, We do what we can with our pure white flame. "We do what we can with our bloom and grace, To make the city a fairer place. "It is well to be good though the world is vile, And so through the dust and the smoke we smile, "We are but atoms in chaos tossed, Yet never a purpose for truth was lost." Ah, many a sermon is uttered there By the bed of blossoms in Greeley square. And he who listens and hears aright, Is better equipped for the world's hard fight. Will You will be what you will to be; Let failure find its false content In that poor word "environment," But spirit scorns it, and is free, You will be what you will to be; But spirit scorns it, and is free, It masters time, it conquers space, It cows that boastful trickster Chance, And bids the tyrant Circumstance Uncrown and fill a servant's place. It masters time, it conquers space, Uncrown and fill a servant's place. The human Will, that force unseen, The offspring of a deathless Soul, Can hew the way to any goal, Though walls of granite intervene.
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