Blowing o’er uncharted seas,
Remembering, then, the night-eyed maid
In whose smile all fears were laid?
Perhaps your lure was on the wave,
The first call that the New World gave,
As Fate urged him on and on,
Into that splendid glory drawn
Wherein a New World was his gift
In which our starry flag can lift,
Proclaiming all men equal, free,