But you who know days of a diff'rent kind
Tomorrow's children for whom work is more like play
And living is what poems are for me today
A passionate utterance carefully designed

Remember us, the lame, the deaf, the blind
Not for the stupid things we've done and can't forget;
Nor the endless dull jobs over which we all sweat
Nor all the sad chronicles that we leave behind

But that we loved as much as anyone ever did
That we knew joys, the little deeds, the grand design
The dream of changing the world to something new
Believe us, in our way we loved to live

Know that many, many things we loved
And of all of these
Our greatest joy was in opening the way for you