New The good mate said: "Now must we pray, World and Old Glory For, lo! the very stars are gone. Brave Adm'r'l, speak; what shall I say?" "Why, say: 'Sail on, sail on! and on!"" "My men grow mutinous day by day; My men grow ghastly wan and weak." Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. If we sight not but seas at dawn? They sailed and sailed as winds might blow, These very winds forget the way, For God from these dread seas is gone. They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate: "This mad sea shows his teeth to-night; He curls his lip, he lies in wait, With lifted teeth, as if to bite: Brave Adm'r'l, say but one good word; The words leapt as a leaping sword: "Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!" Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck And peered through darkness. Ah, that night Of all dark nights! And then a speck A light! a light! a light! a light! It grew, a starlit flag unfurled! It grew to be Time's burst of dawn. He gained a world; he gave that world Its greatest lesson: "On! sail on!" JOAQUIN MILLER. New World and Old Glory Pocahontas Wearied arm and broken sword Through the wilderness resounds, Now they heap the funeral pyre, Ah! 'tis hard to die by fire! Who will shield the captive knight? New World and Old Glory Round the stake with fiendish cry Wheel and dance the savage crowd, Cold the victim's mien and proud, And his breast is bared to die. Who will shield the fearless heart? Dauntlessly aside she flings Lifted axe and thirsty knife, Still 'tis told by Indian fires Saved a captive Englishman. WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers On a stern and rock-bound coast, When a band of exiles moored their bark Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came; Not with the roll of the stirring drums, In silence and in fear: They shook the depths of the desert's gloom Amidst the storm they sang; And the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the Anthem of the Free. The ocean eagle soared From his nest by the white wave's foam; And the rocking pines of the forest roared,— This was their welcome home! There were men with hoary hair Amidst that pilgrim band: New World and Old Glory New Why had they come to wither there, World and Old Glory Away from their childhood's land? eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow, serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? They sought a faith's pure shrine! The soil where first they trod ; They have left unstained what there they found Freedom to worship God. FELICIA HEMANS. The Twenty-second of December* Wild was the day; the wintry sea Moaned sadly on New England's strand, They little thought how pure a light, With years, should gather round that day; *By courtesy of D. Appleton & Co., publishers of Bryant's Complete Poetical Works. |