| |
| REND America asunder | |
| And unite the binding sea | |
| That emboldens man and tempers,— | |
| Make the ocean free. | |
| |
| Break the bolt that bars the passage, | 5 |
| That our river richly pours | |
| Western wealth to western nations; | |
| Let that sea be ours,— | |
| |
| Ours by all the hardy whalers, | |
| By the pointing Oregon, | 10 |
| By the west-impelled and working, | |
| Unthralled Saxon son. | |
| |
| Long indeed they have been wooing, | |
| The Pacific and his bride; | |
| Now ’t is time for holy wedding,— | 15 |
| Join them by the tide. | |
| |
| Have the snowy surfs not struggled | |
| Many centuries in vain | |
| That their lips might seal the union? | |
| Lock them main to main. | 20 |
| |
| When the mighty God of nature | |
| Made this favored continent, | |
| He allowed it yet unsevered, | |
| That a race be sent, | |
| |
| Able, mindful of his purpose, | 25 |
| Prone to people, to subdue, | |
| And to bind the land with iron, | |
| Or to force them through. | |
| |
| What the prophet-navigator, | |
| Seeking straits to his Catais, | 30 |
| But began, now consummate it— | |
| Make the strait and pass. | |
| |
| Blessed the eyes that shall behold it, | |
| When the pointing boom shall veer, | |
| Leading through the parted Andes, | 35 |
| While the nations cheer! | |
| |
| There at Suez, Europe’s mattock | |
| Cuts the briny road with skill, | |
| And must Darien bid defiance | |
| To the pilot still? | 40 |
| |
| Do we breathe this breath of knowledge | |
| Purely to enjoy its zest? | |
| Shall the iron arm of science | |
| Like a sluggard rest? | |
| |
| Up then, at it! earnest people! | 45 |
| Bravely wrought thy scorning blade, | |
| But there ’s fresher fame in store yet, | |
| Glory for the spade. | |
| |
| What we want is naught in envy, | |
| And for all we pioneer; | 50 |
| Let the keels of every nation | |
| Through the isthmus steer. | |
| |
| Must the globe be always girded | |
| Ere we get to Bramah’s priest? | |
| Take the tissues of your Lowells | 55 |
| Westward to the East. | |
| |
| Ye, that vanquish pain and distance, | |
| Ye, enmeshing Time with wire, | |
| Court ye patiently forever | |
| Yon Antarctic ire? | 60 |
| |
| Shall the mariner forever | |
| Double the impending capes, | |
| While his longsome and retracting | |
| Needless course he shapes? | |
| |
| What was daring for our fathers, | 65 |
| To defy those billows fierce, | |
| Is but tame for their descendants; | |
| We are bid to pierce. | |
| |
| Ye that fight with printing armies, | |
| Settle sons on forlorn track, | 70 |
| As the Romans flung their eagles, | |
| But to win them back. | |
| |
| Who, undoubting, worship boldness, | |
| And, if baffled, bolder rise, | |
| Shall we lag when grandeur beckons | 75 |
| To this good enterprise? | |
| |
| Let the vastness not appall us; | |
| Greatness is thy destiny. | |
| Let the doubters not recall us; | |
| Venture suits the free. | 80 |
| |
| Like a seer, I see her throning, | |
| Winland strong in freedom’s health, | |
| Warding peace on both the waters, | |
| Widest Commonwealth. | |
| |
| Crowned with wreaths that still grow greener, | 85 |
| Guerdon for untiring pain, | |
| For the wise, the stout, and steadfast: | |
| Rend the land in twain. | |
| |
| Cleave America asunder, | |
| This is worthy work for thee. | 90 |
| Hark! The seas roll up imploring, | |
| “Make the ocean free.” | |
| |
