  THE PARLIAMENT OF MANWHAT shall withstand her? who shall gainsay her? The mighty nation! Nation of freemen with hearts linked together— None to betray her. When from the strong soul leaps forth indignation, How shall the wrong live? how should the false thrive? How prosper liars? Down with dissemblers, far hence be each dastard, Hence all deniers! Chaunt the great nation with hands locked together. North, South, East, West, one bond binds the true-hearted. Each one for the nation and the nation for each one. Where the millions are one fears no one of the millions. See the monster, Behemoth, stride from ocean to ocean, From the pole to equator, from the pole to the pole. Did he slumber—you dreamed?—lo! a single man's wronged there, And the turbulent crowds raise a cry smites the welkin: As one pulse beat the millions swift help to the wronged one, And the wronger slinks back. Justice now hath a pleader. Stem the steep waves of ocean when Boreas hath stirred them— Quell the riotous billows when tempest doth lash them— O the free waves of ocean, how resistless their forces! O each man of the millions a light-crested fighter! O the millions oceanic with souls linked together! O the surging, triumphant, troth-plighting, united— The many in one, the sure tie forged by freedom. How sing fit praise? how raise the pÆan? Say ye who love her. How of true hearts breathe the single devotion— A song empyrean? Mingle a voice from strong souls the land over, Voices of maidens, wives, husbands and lovers, A voice from the sea— Chaunting deep faith in the nation of freemen! Forever to be! A PERFECT artist hath been here; the scene Is grandly imaged; with what breadth of hand, What noble grace of freedom, all is planned! The woods, the water and the lakelet's sheen; The magic hues—gold-pink, rose-pearl, sea-green, And now the western gateway, see, is spanned! A nameless glory gilds the favored land, And still the spirit-artist works unseen. Belike upon the chamber of a king My erring steps have stumbled; yet, meseems, These, like myself, are common men, who spring From rock to rock where the mid-splendor gleams. Perchance the king's sons we, and I, who sing, Co-heir to wealth beyond yon realm of dreams. |
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