COMMERCE.
87
Haste, ere the vision to your eye grows dim,—
O'er rock and forest comes the Mayflower's hymn:
Fleet as the night-star fades in brightening day,
That exiled pilgrim-band has passed away;
But, where their anchors marked a dreary shore,
When first thanksgivings rose for perils o'er,
A nation's banner fills the murmuring air,
And freedom's ensign wantons gaily there.
O'er rock and forest comes the Mayflower's hymn:
Fleet as the night-star fades in brightening day,
That exiled pilgrim-band has passed away;
But, where their anchors marked a dreary shore,
When first thanksgivings rose for perils o'er,
A nation's banner fills the murmuring air,
And freedom's ensign wantons gaily there.
O, glorious stripes! no stain your honor mars;
Wave! ever wave! our country's flag of stars!
Float till old Time shall shroud the sun in gloom,
And this proud empire seeks its laureled tomb.
Wave! ever wave! our country's flag of stars!
Float till old Time shall shroud the sun in gloom,
And this proud empire seeks its laureled tomb.
Trace we the exile from his mother's arms,
Through traffic's din, its mazes and alarms;
And as remembrance paints his swift career,
From the rocked cradle to the noiseless bier;
A lesson learn,—that life's divinest gem
Is not wealth's boon or glory's diadem.
Through traffic's din, its mazes and alarms;
And as remembrance paints his swift career,
From the rocked cradle to the noiseless bier;
A lesson learn,—that life's divinest gem
Is not wealth's boon or glory's diadem.
