An Old Man'S Thought Of School; An Old Man, Gathering Youthful Memories And Blooms, That Youth Itself Cannot. Now Only Do I Know You! O Fair Auroral Skies! O Morning Dew Upon The Grass! And These I See--These Sparkling Eyes, These Stores Of Mystic Meaning--These Young Lives, Building, Equipping, Like A Fleet Of Ships--Immortal Ships! Soon To Sail Out Over The Measureless Seas, On The Soul'S Voyage. Only A Lot Of Boys And Girls? Only The Tiresome Spelling, Writing, Ciphering Classes? Only A Public School? Ah More--Infinitely More; (As George Fox Rais'D His Warning Cry, "Is It This Pile Of Brick And Mortar--These Dead Floors, Windows, Rails--You Call The Church? Why This Is Not The Church At All--The Church Is Living, Ever Living Souls.") And You, America, Cast You The Real Reckoning For Your Present? The Lights And Shadows Of Your Future--Good Or Evil? To Girlhood, Boyhood Look--The Teacher And The School.