"That man is thought a knave or fool, Or bigot plotting crime, Who for the advancement of his kind, Is wiser than his time. For him the hemlock shall distil, For him the axe be bared; For him the gibbet shall be built, For him the stake prepared. Him shall the scorn and wrath of men Pursue with deadly aim; And malice, envy, spite, and lies Shall desecrate his name. But never a truth has been destroyed, They may curse it, and call it crime; Pervert and betray, and slander and slay Its teachers for a time: But the sunshine, aye, shall light the sky, As round and round we run; And the truth shall ever come uppermost, And justice shall be done." Ungrateful Athens bade her savior drain the poisoned cup. It did its work, the spark of life was quenched; but the name of Socrates shines on, undimmed by the flight of more than twenty centuries. Columbus languished in chains, forged by the nation he had made renowned; but no chains can bind the towering fame his genius won. Religious zealots sealed the lips of a philosopher; but could they stop the revolving earth? Could they control the rising tide that rolled upon the boundless sea of thought? No! the earth went round, the wave rolled on. To-day, the very church that persecuted Galileo reveres his name, accepts his teachings, and through his telescope, the instrument she once, condemned, her votaries, with eager eye and throbbing pulse, explore the starry fields of heaven. It is ever so: "Truth crushed to earth shall rise again." Each fierce Thermopylae she meets inspires some crowning Salamis. The wrongs of Thomas Paine shall be avenged. In vain his country passed to him the bitter cup; the fetters forged to chain his noble spirit to the dust were forged for naught; loving lips whisper, "It still moves!"