There’s a seeker of beauty in the city of Boston,
A lover of sculpture that’s heroically grand.
Down its lanes of expectancy, cheerily walking,
She comes on a rider and hears his command,—
“Be bold, fight on truly for the life that you value;
How far be the victory, let nothing dare stop you!”

If a step could be lighter in the city of Boston,
If a cloud could start dancing, or a sunbeam stride,
There’d perhaps be a match for this owner of greatness,
With the world in her hands though they swing by her side!