To dedicate a shore,
Where piety’s meek train might breathe their vow,
And seek their Maker with an unshamed brow;
Where liberty’s glad race might proudly come,
And set up there an everlasting home?
X.
O many a time it hath been told,
The story of those men of old:
For this fair poetry hath wreathed
Her sweetest, purest flower;