XII.
By centuries now the glorious hour we mark,
When to these shores they steered their shattered bark;
And still, as other centuries melt away,
Shall other ages come to keep the day.
When we are dust, who gather round this spot,
Our joys, our griefs, our very names forgot,
Here shall the dwellers of the land be seen,
To keep the memory of the Pilgrims green.
Nor here alone their praises shall go round,
Nor here alone their virtues shall abound—
Broad as the empire of the free shall spread,
Far as the foot of man shall dare to tread,
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Where oar hath never dipped, where human tongue
Hath never through the woods of ages rung,
There, where the eagle’s scream and wild wolf’s cry
Keep ceaseless day and night through earth and sky,
Even there, in after time, as toil and taste
Go forth in gladness to redeem the waste,
Even there shall rise, as grateful myriads throng,
Faith’s holy prayer and freedom’s joyful song;
There shall the flame that flashed from yonder Rock,
Light up the land, till nature’s final shock.