|A Sacred Shrine for Me|
Wherever your precious feet have trod
Becomes a sacred shrine for me:
The well-worn streets of Cambridge town,
The walkways of the Harvard Yard—
Lined with their ancient, stately elms—
The grassy banks of the River Charles;
And your ancestral Tamworth haunts;
The laughing girl, the jaunty woman,
Hiking the springy woodland trails
To mountain tops more lovely made
By your presence, your shining beauty
Mingling with Nature's magnificence.
And I do cherish all other places
Where you have been or visited
And left the imprint of your grace
On the good earth and human hearts.
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