[Enter simultaneously Chorus of Waves, (men) on one side, and on the other, Chorus of Clouds (women). They flock slowly into the orchestra, approaching each other, and sing as they assemble.]
Both Choruses. Father Hudson, we are coming, we are streaming,
we are foaming
From the sky and from the earth,
Down the mountains,
Through the fountains,
We are streaming, steaming forth;
We, the children of your will,
Born to serve you, and to fill
All your banks and all your margin
With the fulness of enlarging,
With the plentitude of rivers,
We, the generous water-givers,
Overflowing, bubbling, swelling,
Feed you with our rich upwelling.
Chorus of Men. From Monadnock and Mount Washington—
And where the haughty deer on Hudson's Bay
Sniffs the north wind, We bring you Mist.
Chorus of Women. From the rank lowlands of the Delaware,
And from the even margin of low sand,
Where the Atlantic smites the continent, We bring you Salt.
Chorus of Men. From Sicily and the Cumaean Cave,
And from the mountains where Apollo's shafts
Whitened the hillsides once, We bring you Thought.
Chorus of Women. From the dark heart of man that scorns the light,
From Wisdom, found in Meekness through Despair, We bring you Grief.
Both Choruses. Haste to where our father dwells!
We the movers, we the rovers,
Come to your eternal dwelling.
Ancient father, we will bring
News and thought of everything,
From the mossy citadels,
And the cities of the sea;
Timeworn tales of prophecy
We are bringing in our singing
To your newer Majesty.
To your destiny belated,
Young and unsophisticated,
We, the children of the ages,
Bring the solemn heritages,—
Force and Woe and Human Fate,—
Embittering your god-like state.
Bitter is life!
Bitter, bitter even to the gods, is life!
Father Hudson. Sons and daughters, sole feeders of my life,
By these new-coming white men I am destroyed.
My feet are burned in Manhattan, my thighs in the Mohawk,
While in the Adirondacks they blaze enduring ruin.
[The leaders speak, not sing, except as otherwise noted.]
Leader of Men. Alas! little knows he that his kingdom is of nothing but of change and pain.