By JH Sayyar
O house of words, where thoughts soar,
Thy halls resound with echoes old and new,
Where Shakespeare dreams and Milton’s spirits pour,
And Keats still walks in verse’s morning dew.
Thy shelves are towers built of soul and flame,
Where minds converse across the veils of time,
Each voice distinct, yet all in purpose same
To forge from silence syllables sublime
In thee, the tongue is honed to subtle art,
Where rhetoric and rhyme together dance,
And stories beat within the student’s heart,
Their meanings glinting in a learned glance
O keep alive, the light of language bright,
Thou bastion of the word, truth, and rite
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