She was born of the longing of ages,
By the truth of the noble dead,
And the faith of the living, fed!
No blood in her lightest veins
Frets at remembered chains,
Nor shame of bondage has bowed her head
In her form and features still,
The unblenching Puritan will,
Cavalier honor, Huguenot grace,
The Quaker truth and sweetness,