The calm apprentice days of youth had reached
Their harvest hours when Jesus turned his face
From Nazareth, where prophecy was preached
To skeptic thought. His mighty arts of grace
And truth demanded wider latitude
Of receptivity in which to bloom.
Like wings of ever-spreading magnitude,
They beat upon his heart for grander room.
Each child must one day leave his Nazareth—
The petty conflicts, changing faces, tears,
And crude, resisting walls of pride and death.
Beyond the world's conservative frontiers,
Beyond the island margins of the mind,
Lie vast dimensions of activity.
Wherever progress bursts the cords that bind,
Truth points a royal road of destiny.
