Rejoicing, confident of long repose, (Their friends triumphant, far retired their foes,) The British colonies now feel their sway Span the whole north and crowd the western day. Acadia, Canada, earth's total side, From Slave's long lake to Pensacola's tide, Expand their soils for them; and here unfold A range of highest hope, a promised age of gold.
But soon from eastern seas dark vapors rise, Sweep the vast Occident and shroud the skies, Snatch all the vision from the Hero's sight, And wrap the coast in sudden shades of night. He turn'd, and sorrowful besought the Power: Why sinks the scene, or must I view no more? Must here the fame of that young world descend? Shall our brave children find so quick their end? Where then the promised grace? "Thou soon shalt see That half mankind shall owe their seats to thee."
The Saint replied: Ere long, beneath thy view The scene shall brighten and thy joys renew. Here march the troublous years, when goaded sore Thy sons shall rise to change the ruling power; When Albion's prince, who sways the happy land, To lawless rule extends his tyrant hand, To bind in slavery's bands the peaceful host, Their rights unguarded and their charters lost. Now raise thine eye; from this delusive plain; What nations leap to life, what deeds adorn their fame!
Columbus look'd; and still around them spread, From south to north, the immeasurable shade; At last the central darkness burst away, And rising regions opened on the day. Once more bright Delaware's commercial stream And Penn's throng'd city cast a cheerful gleam; The dome of state, as conscious of his eye, Now seem'd to silver in a loftier sky, Unfolding fair its gates; when lo, within The assembled states in solemn Congress shine.
The sires elect from every province came, Where wide Columbia bore the British name, Where Freedom's sons their highborn lineage trace, And homebred bravery still exalts the race: Her sons who plant each various vast domain That Chesapeak's uncounted currents drain; The race who Roanoke's clear stream bestride, Who fell the pine on Apalachia's side, To Albemarle's wide wave who trust their store, Who dike proud Pamlico's unstable shore. Whose groaning barks o'erload the long Santee, Wind thro the realms and labor to the sea, (Their cumbrous cargoes, to the sail consign'd, Seek distant worlds, and feed and clothe mankind;) The race whose rice-fields suck Savanna's urn, Whose verdant vines Oconee's bank adorn; Who freight the Delaware with golden grain, Who tame their steeds on Monmouth's flowery plain, From huge Toconnok hills who drag their ore, And sledge their corn to Hudson's quay-built shore. Who keel Connecticut's long meadowy tide, With patient plough his fallow plains divide, Spread their white flocks o'er Narraganset's vale, Or chase to each chill pole the monstrous whale; Whose venturous prows have borne their fame afar, Tamed all the seas and steer'd by every star, Dispensed to earth's whole habitants their store, And with their biting flukes have harrow'd every shore.