Unfinished
HERE, in this land so bountiful to man
In fertile soil and seasons timely made,
Stray winds of discontent do sometimes fan
The flowering peace, and dull the day with shade.
Still, Union has raised up her stainless flag,
Unfurled secure where nothing shall betray;
When Loyalty calls them forth, how few will lag
To own their manhood and their country's sway.
From these fair shores that fringe the tidal sea
Hath Commerce found a roadway o'er the wave.
The breezes come and go for all, and free,
And find no man a vassal or a slave.
On mountain-side the dark pines stately lift
Their heavy branches to the changeful sky;
Thus were these shores when once the ocean-drift
Was left upon their rocky banks to dry.
Then, Labor, coming warmed with noble blood
That brought our fathers to a freer land,
Tore from the earth the firmly rooted wood;
And cleared the meadows with a tireless hand.
That day and courage are not ended yet,
For greater labor tasks the strength of hands;
Unfinished things before the workmen set;
Cities yet unbuilt, unbroken lands.
