All hail to thee, noble and generous Land! <br />With thy prairies boundless and wide, <br />Thy mountains that tower like sentinels grand, <br />Thy lakes and thy rivers of pride! <br /> <br />Thy forests that hide in their dim haunted shades <br />New flowers of loveliness rare— <br />Thy fairy like dells and thy bright golden glades, <br />Thy warm skies as Italy’s fair. <br /> <br />Here Plenty has lovingly smiled on the soil, <br />And ’neath her sweet, merciful reign <br />The brave and long suff’ring children of toil <br />Need labor no longer in vain. <br /> <br />I ask of thee shelter from lawless harm, <br />Food—raiment—and promise thee now, <br />In return, the toil of a stalwart arm, <br />And the sweat of an honest brow. <br /> <br />But think not, I pray, that this heart is bereft <br />Of fond recollections of home; <br />That I e’er can forget the dear land I have left <br />In the new one to which I have come. <br /> <br />Oh no! far away in my own sunny isle <br />Is a spot my affection worth, <br />And though dear are the scenes that around me now smile, <br />More dear is the place of my birth! <br /> <br />There hedges of hawthorn scent the sweet air, <br />And, thick as the stars of the night, <br />The daisy and primrose, with flow’rets as fair, <br />Gem that soil of soft verdurous light. <br /> <br />And there points the spire of my own village church, <br />That long has braved time’s iron power, <br />With its bright glitt’ring cross and ivy wreathed porch— <br />Sure refuge in sorrow’s dark hour! <br /> <br />Whilst memory lasts think not e’er from this breast <br />Can pass the fond thoughts of my home: <br />No! I ne’er can forget the land I have left <br />In the new one to which I have come!<br /><br />Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-emigrant-s-address-to-america/
