4534846Poems — The Old State of MaineClara A. Merrill
The Old State of Maine
Sail on gallant bark, bearing onward your freight, Ye breezes blow briskly! her sails to inflate,— See how her staunch prow the green billows will break, And the path of white foam that she leaves in her wake! Speed onward, ye courses of iron!—Swiftly steals Away the bright rails as they fly 'neath your wheels. Bear me onward, fleet charger, nor yet me detain, Oh take me back home to my Old State of Maine!
When twilight's dark shade o'er the valley impends, And the pale crescent moon its refulgence blends; Then fancy reverts to the long agone days, The sweet scenes of Childhood revisit our gaze; And hill, vale and woodland our minds will employ, Expanding the bosom with infinite joy. Peal on, memory sweet! Let me hear thy glad strain, Oh take me back home to my old Old State of Maine!
Tho' I traverse at will Old Neptune's domain, Or by fair country-side bounding river and plain; In dreams I can see,—in their places once more Kind familiar faces, long since gone before,— And I dwell once again in the days that are past, Nor think, for the time, that naught earthly can last. Dream on, faithful muse, I have long sighed in vain,— Oh, take me back home to my Old State of Maine!
From Katahdin's proud crest, to Atlantic's blue verge, New lights and new scenes in succession emerge; Silver lakes and green meads, in confusion arise In grand panorama to gladden our eyes. I love the old ingle, each nook, rock and knoll, And the country's dear flag that waves over the whole: Take me back to the home of my youth once again, To the dear Pine Tree State,—the Old State of Maine.
