The volume of a hundred buried years,
Condensed in one bright sheet appears. ********
Jamestown and Plymouth's hallow'd rock
To me shall ever sacred be;
I care not who my themes may mock,
Or sneer at them and me.
I envy not the brute who here can stand
Without a thrill for his own native land.
And if the recreant crawl her earth.
Or breathe Virginia's air,