the breaking waves dashed high
On a stern and rock-bound coast,
And t a stormy sky,
t brancost;
And t hung dark
ter oer,
heir bark
On the wild New England shore.
Not as the conqueror comes,
true-ed, came;
Not irring drums,
And trumpet t sings of fame;
Not as the flying come,
In silence and in fear, -
ts gloom
ity cheer.
Amidst torm they sang,
And tars he sea;
And the dim woods rang
to the free.
the ocean-eagle soared
From by te waves foam,
And t roared -
their welcome home!
th hoary hair
Amidst t pilgrim band:
o here,
Aheir childhoods land?
there was womans fearless eye,
Lit by ruth;
there was manhoods brow serenely high,
And t of youth.
soughus afar?
Brighe mine?
the spoils of war? -
t a faiths pure shrine!
Ay, call it holy ground,
t trod!
t unstained hey found -
Freedom to worship God!