"Look now abroad--another race has fill'd <br />Those populous borders--wide the wood recedes, <br />And town shoots up, and fertile realms are till'd; <br />The land is full of harvests and green meads."--BRYANT <br /> The breaking waves dash'd high <br /> On a stern and rock-bound coast, <br /> And the woods against a stormy sky <br /> Their giant branches toss'd; <br /> <br /> And the heavy night hung dark, <br /> The hills and waters o'er, <br /> When a band of exiles moor'd their bark <br /> On the wild New England shore. <br /> <br /> Not as the conqueror comes, <br /> They, the true-hearted, came; <br /> Not with the roll of the stirring drums, <br /> And the trumpet that sings of fame; <br /> <br /> Not as the flying come, <br /> In silence and in fear;-- <br /> They shook the depths of the desert gloom <br /> With their hymns of lofty cheer. <br /> <br /> Amidst the storm they sang, <br /> And the stars heard and the sea: <br /> And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang <br /> To the anthem of the free! <br /> <br /> The ocean eagle soar'd <br /> From his nest by the white wave's foam <br /> And the rocking pines of the forest roar'd-- <br /> This was their welcome home! <br /> <br /> There were men with hoary hair <br /> Amidst that pilgrim band:-- <br /> Why had they come to wither there, <br /> Away from their childhood's land? <br /> <br /> There was woman's fearless eye, <br /> Lit by her deep love's truth; <br /> There was manhood's brow serenely high, <br /> And the fiery heart of youth. <br /> <br /> What sought they thus afar? <br /> Bright jewels of the mine? <br /> The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?-- <br /> They sought a faith's pure shrine! <br /> <br /> Ay, call it holy ground, <br /> The soil where first they trode. <br /> They have left unstained, what there they found-- <br /> Freedom to worship God.<br /><br />Felicia Dorothea Hemans<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-landing-of-the-pilgrim-fathers-in-new-englan/
