England to America,
1876
by William James Linton (1812�1897) |
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A HUNDRED years!
Too long for memory of the justest
feud!
Last century's quarrel to its end pursued
And
yours the triumph, may not we grasp hands,
Now each one
stands
Apart from fears?
Brothers! that word
Makes Tyranny weak; Wrong flies, nor looks behind,
Driven
as dry leaves before the herald wind
That clears the way
for spring's most gentle flowers.
O waiting hours!
Your plaint is heard.
Land named of hope!
Our best
have hailed the promise of thy growth;
Surely hath
honor's race-ground room for both
America and England,
side by side,
Yet leaving pride
Sufficient scope.
New England! ours
Art thou, as England's thine: thy
children own
The common parentage. Nor they alone,
But
wheresoe'er is heard our English tongue�
World-widely
flung
For coming hours.
Be with us then,
Thou
greater England! second but in time:
Our age shall
welcome our young giant's prime,
As in his sons a father
takes delight,
Proud of the height
Of younger men.
O'erstride our fame!
Step past the extremest
stretch of our renown!
Wreathe round Columbia's head the
laurel crown
Our old heroic worth can well assign!
The
crown be thine�
In England's name!
For we are
one,�
In race, in will, in energy the same:
Twin
aspirations of one-tongu�d flame.
England were fain to
see you climb beyond
Our hopes most fond,
And all we
have done. |
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By William James Linton (1812�1897)
Listed February 23, 2014
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