While liberty can find a tongue.
Twine, Gratitude, a wreath for them,
More deathless than the diadem,
Who to life’s noblest end,
Gave up life’s noblest powers,
And bade the legacy descend,
Down, down to us and ours.
XII.
By centuries now the glorious hour we mark,
When to these shores they steered their shattered bark;