CLAY
Then with perennial laurel wreaths,
The matchless mind had wrought,
His ladened bark went drifting on
To find the “Kings of Thought;”
And though the stately vessel long
Hath left its earthly strand,
The helmsman’s voice re-echoes back
From out the Phantom Land.
Live, Patriot, live! while oceans chafe
Their adamantine bars—
While mailed Orion flames his plume
’Mid bright-battalioned stars;
Live, Patriot, live! while glory thrills
The heart-strings of the free,
And Mississippi pours its grand
Libations to the sea!
[ 141 ]
