May dews of health and shadows of healing
Fall from the leaves of thy Liberty Tree!
Dare to be noble, my nation. Go fashion
Deeds that thine angel record not with ruth.
Wear on thy heart the white rose of compassion,
Conquer thy foes by forbearance and truth.
Still by the need of thy sires storm-driven,
Glad in strange waters their vessels to moor
Open thy gates, O thou favored of Heaven,
Open them wide to the homeless and poor.
So shall the peoples, from ocean to ocean,
Bring precious tribute of blessing to thee.
So shall thy children yield loyal devotion,
All for the love of mine own countrie.
THE SONGS OF THE FUTURE.
AMERICA, my mother and my queen,
Thou living Presence that art something more
Than cloud-enfolded hills or foam-lit shore,
Or steepled towns, yet silent and unseen,
Save as thou lendest to this garment sheen
The impress of that grace for which men pour
Dear blood in battle, toward the Delphic door
Of the closed centuries I feel thee lean,
Young, eager, beautiful, to know thy fates.
