America to Great Britain
by Washington Allston (1779-1843) |
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ALL hail! thou noble land,
Our Fathers' native soil!
Oh, stretch thy mighty hand,
Gigantic grown by toil,
O'er the vast Atlantic wave to
our shore!
For thou with magic might
Canst reach to
where the light
Of Ph�bus travels bright
The world
o'er!
The Genius of our clime,
From his
pine-embattled steep,
Shall hail the guest sublime;
While the Tritons of the deep
With their conchs the
kindred league shall proclaim.
Then let the world
combine,
Like the milky-way shall shine
Bright in
fame!
Though ages long have past
Since our Fathers
left their home,
O'er untravelled seas to roam,
Yet
lives the blood of England in our veins!
And shall we not
proclaim
That blood of honest fame
Which no tyranny
can tame
By its chains?
While the language free
and bold
Which the bard of Avon sung,
In which our
Milton told 30
How the vault of heaven rung
When
Satan, blasted, fell with his host;
While this, with
reverence meet,
Ten thousand echoes greet,
From rock
to rock repeat
Round our coast;�
While the
manners, while the arts,
That mould a nation's soul,
Still cling around our hearts,�
Between let Ocean roll,
Our joint communion breaking with the Sun:
Yet still from
either beach
The voice of blood shall reach,
More
audible than speech,
"We are One." |
By Washington Allston (1779-1843)
Listed November 4, 2012 |
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