How long, and yet how long, <br />Our leaders will we hail from over seas, <br />Master and kings from feudal monarchies, <br />And mock their ancient song <br />With echoes weak of foreign melodies? <br /> <br />That distant isle mist-wreathed, <br />Mantled in unimaginable green, <br />Too long hath been our mistress and our queen. <br />Our fathers have bequeathed <br />Too deep a love for her, our hearts within. <br /> <br />She made the whole world ring <br />With the brave exploits of her children strong, <br />And with the matchless music of her song. <br />Too late, too late we cling <br />To alien legends, and their strains prolong. <br /> <br />This fresh young world I see, <br />With heroes, cities, legends of her own; <br />With a new race of men, and overblown <br />By winds from sea to sea, <br />Decked with the majesty of every zone. <br /> <br />I see the glittering tops <br />Of snow-peaked mounts, the wid'ning vale's expanse, <br />Large prairies where free herds of horses prance, <br />Exhaustless wealth of crops, <br />In vast, magnificent extravagance. <br /> <br />These grand, exuberant plains, <br />These stately rivers, each with many a mouth, <br />The exquisite beauty of the soft-aired south, <br />The boundless seas of grains, <br />Luxuriant forests' lush and splendid growth. <br /> <br />The distant siren-song <br />Of the green island in the eastern sea, <br />Is not the lay for this new chivalry. <br />It is not free and strong <br />To chant on prairies 'neath this brilliant sky. <br /> <br />The echo faints and fails; <br />It suiteth not, upon this western plain, <br />Out voice or spirit; we should stir again <br />The wilderness, and make the vales <br />Resound unto a yet unheard-of strain.<br /><br />Emma Lazarus<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/how-long-45/
