Better than land or gold or trade <br />Are a high ideal and a purpose true; <br />Better than all of the wealth we've made <br />Is the work for others that now we do. <br />For Rome grew rich and she turned to song <br />And danced to music and drank her wine, <br />But she sapped the strength of her fibres strong <br />And a gilded shroud was her splendor fine. <br /> <br />The Rome of old with its wealth and wine <br />Was the handiwork of a sturdy race; <br />They builded well and they made it fine <br />And they dreamed of it as their children's place. <br />They thought the joys they had won to give, <br />And which seemed so certain and fixed and sure, <br />To the end of time in the world would live <br />And the Rome they'd fashioned would long endure. <br /> <br />They passed to their children the hoarded gold, <br />Their marble halls and their fertile fields! <br />But not the spirit of Rome of old, <br />Nor the Roman courage that never yields. <br />They left them the wealth that their hands had won, <br />But they failed to leave them a purpose true. <br />They left them thinking life's work all done, <br />And Rome went down and was lost to view. <br /> <br />We must guard ourselves lest we follow Rome. <br />We must leave our children the finer things. <br />We must teach them love of the spot called home <br />And the lasting joy that a purpose brings. <br />For vain are our Flag and our battles won, <br />And vain are our lands and our stores of gold, <br />If our children feel that life's work is done. <br />We must give them a high ideal to hold.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ideals-4/
