We owe our debt to the man who thinks,
For he leads our minds afar
Till they stand and tremble on the brinks
Of the strangest things that are.
We owe our debt to the man who hopes,
For he keeps our courage strong.
He speaks his cheer to the soul that gropes,
And it wakens into song.
And here’s to the man whose soul believes,
In whose heart convictions burn
Through the day of life, and who dying leaves
Them to others in their turn.
But the old world’s mighty tasks are planned
And done, as it onward goes,
By the balanced mind and the steady hand
That belong to the man who knows.