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| THREE thousand miles of Atlantic seas and a throb that cuts the top, | |
| The rushed four-funneled fleeting ship, that, without curb or stop, | |
| Hurls on, while Earth ten times rolls round till, under morning stars, | |
| She breasts the mist of a continent and slows at the groaning bars! | |
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| And lo, three-layered Humanity in her steerage bunks asleep, | 5 |
| Rising at dawn and crowding aft, and in the infinite sweep | |
| Of gray—the sea, the sky,—see dim, dream greatened and gigantic, | |
| America, America, uprisen from the Atlantic! | |
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| Swift on dead centuries of faces a sun flames, ere the Sun | |
| Blows the blue bubble of the heavens vast—yea, flaming one by one, | 10 |
| These faces are a psalm to God—a morning hymn—the sea, | |
| The sky, the land are a living Temple with a thousand Souls set free. | |
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| Swing them the uplifted, crowded people in transport to our Isle— | |
| Morning with strong sun and sweet gales and the Bay’s yeasty mile, | |
| Like hands holds forth a glorious City—her smoke’s sky-swimming shoals, | 15 |
| Her flight of cliffs, her range of peaks all honeycombed with Souls! | |
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| O, come through the Ellis Island Gates—O rush the sweet routine, | |
| Sweep to new birth on a planet new—for lo, at the wire screen | |
| Of the waiting cage, the American clutch—yea, as starved people stare, | |
| Watching your alien faces pass to see if one be there. | 20 |
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| Yonder old trembling man three hours has stood! Through the shuffling crowd | |
| A pink-shawled withered old woman shambles over her baggage bowed; | |
| He pales; he cries her name; she bursts into his arms; the years | |
| Melt back into the glory of youth, still seen through blinding tears. | |
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| Old Woman—strong girls, swart men, soft babes—you hordes across seas hurled, | 25 |
| O pioneers, as one dares Death, you dare a great new World! | |
| You bring strong blood, and Faith, and Love, stout hearts and homely traits— | |
| What shall our country do with you—deal out what Dooms, what Fates? | |
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| Shall we judge by your alien ways, and lose the gifts that are all our own? | |
| Or shall we rise to grander heights than Earth has ever known? | 30 |
| Yea, shall we seize on you with love, far-building on our trust? | |
| Are we great enough to swing to God what Europe trailed in dust? | |
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| O our America, O Mother, great have you been, our hearts | |
| Are yours, our faith and love are yours—great are your trades and arts, | |
| Your Men—fail not! Earth looks to you, her vast Experiment Station, | 35 |
| To test if souls may be borne to God in the arms of a Mother-Nation! | |
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| Shun not the Mission! Fearless, fearless mother, Earth’s mightiest race— | |
| Yea, seize your flashing stars and stripes and stamp across the face | |
| That word, the strongest in our tongue, that sums the skies deep-starred, | |
| The grain of sand, the Earth, the Soul, our country—the word “God!” | 40 |
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