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(From The Ages)
LOOK now abroad,—another race has filled | |
| These populous borders,—wide the wood recedes, | |
| And towns shoot up, and fertile realms are tilled; | |
| The land is full of harvests and green meads; | |
| Streams numberless, that many a fountain feeds, | 5 |
| Shine, disembowered, and give to sun and breeze | |
| Their virgin waters; the full region leads | |
| New colonies forth, that toward the western seas | |
| Spread, like a rapid flame among the autumnal trees. | |
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| Here the free spirit of mankind, at length, | 10 |
| Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place | |
| A limit to the giant’s unchained strength, | |
| Or curb his swiftness in the forward race: | |
| Far, like the comet’s way through infinite space, | |
| Stretches the long untravelled path of light | 15 |
| Into the depths of ages: we may trace, | |
| Distant, the brightening glory of its flight, | |
| Till the receding rays are lost to human sight. | |
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| Europe is given a prey to sterner fates, | |
| And writhes in shackles; strong the arms that chain | 20 |
| To earth her struggling multitude of states; | |
| She too is strong, and might not chafe in vain | |
| Against them, but shake off the vampire train | |
| That batten on her blood, and break their net. | |
| Yes, she shall look on brighter days, and gain | 25 |
| The meed of worthier deeds; the moment set | |
| To rescue and raise up, draws near—but is not yet. | |
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| But thou, my country, thou shalt never fall, | |
| But with thy children,—thy maternal care, | |
| Thy lavish love, thy blessings showered on all,— | 30 |
| These are thy fetters,—seas and stormy air | |
| Are the wide barrier of thy borders, where, | |
| Among thy gallant sons that guard thee well, | |
| Thou laugh’st at enemies: who shall then declare | |
| The date of thy deep-founded strength, or tell | 35 |
| How happy, in thy lap, the sons of men shall dwell? | |
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