e trackless realms of space,
The stars still run their midnight race;
The same green valleys smile, the same rough shore
Still echoes to the same wild ocean's roar:--
But where the bristling night-wolf sprang
Upon his startled prey,
Where the fierce Indian's war-cry rang,
Through many a bloody fray;
And where the stern old Pilgrim prayed
In solitude and gloom,
Where the bold Patriot drew his blade,
And dared a patriot's doom--
Behold! in liberty's unclouded blaze,
We lift our heads, a race of other days.

XXIII.

All gone! the wild beast's lair is trodden out;
Proud temples stand in beauty there;
Our children raise their merry shout,
Where once the death-whoop vexed the air:
The Pilgrim--seek yon ancient place of graves,
Beneath that chapel's holy shade;
Ask, where the breeze the long grass waves,
Who, who within that spot are laid:
The Patriot--go, to fame's proud mount repair,
The tardy pile, slow rising there,
With tongueless eloquence shall tell
Of them who for their country fell.

XXIV.

All gone! 'tis ours, the goodly land--
Look round--the heritage behold;
Go forth--upon the mountains stand,
Then, if ye can, be cold.
See living vales by living waters blessed,
Their wealth see earth's dark caverns yield,
See ocean roll, in glory dressed,
For all a treasure, and round all a shield:
Hark to the shouts of praise
Rejoicing millions raise;
Gaze on the spires that rise,
To point them to the skies,
Unfearing and unfeared;
Then, if ye can, O then forget
To whom ye owe the sacred debt--
The Pilgrim race revered!
The men who set faith's burning lights
Upon these everlasting heights,
To guide their children through the years of time;
The men that glorious law who taught,
Unshrinking liberty of thought,
And roused the nations with the truth sublime.

XXV.

Forget? no, never--ne'er shall die,
Those names to memory dear;
I read the promise in each eye
That beams upon me here.
Descendants of a twice-recorded race,
Long may ye here your lofty lineage grace;
'Tis not for you home's tender tie
To rend, and brave the waste of waves;
'Tis not for you to rouse and die,
Or yield and li