The Thirteen States, united sets,
In Congress simply grand;
The Lord himself preserve their health,
That they may rule the land.
Whilst every State, without its mate,
Doth rule itself by laws,
Will sovereign be, and always free;
To grieve there is no cause.
But all should try, both low and high,
Our freedom to maintain;
Pray God to bless our grand Congress,
And cease from every sin.
Then sure am I, true liberty
Of every sort will thrive;
With one accord we'll praise the Lord,
All glory to Him give.
To whom all praise is due always,
For He is all in all;
George Washington, that noble one,
On His great name doth call.
Our Congress too, before they do,
Acknowledge Him supreme;
Come let us all before Him fall,
And glorify His name.
LAND OF THE WILFUL GOSPEL[6]
From "Psalm of the West"
Land of the Wilful Gospel, thou worst and thou best;
Tall Adam of lands, new-made of the dust of the West;
Thou wroughtest alone in the Garden of God, unblest
Till He fashioned lithe Freedom to lie for thine Eve on thy breast—
Till out of thy heart's dear neighborhood, out of thy side,
He fashioned an intimate Sweet one and brought thee a Bride.
Cry hail! nor bewail that the wound of her coming was wide.
Lo, Freedom reached forth where the world as an apple hung red;
Let us taste the whole radiant round of it, gayly she said:
If we die, at the worst we shall lie as the first of the dead.
Knowledge of Good and of Ill, O Land! she hath given thee;
Perilous godhoods of choosing have rent thee and riven thee;
Will's high adoring to Ill's low exploring hath driven thee—
Freedom, thy Wife, hath uplifted thy life and clean shriven thee!
Her shalt thou clasp for a balm to the scars of thy breast,
Her shalt thou kiss for a calm to thy wars of unrest,
Her shalt extol in the psalm of the soul of the West.
For Weakness, in freedom, grows stronger than Strength with a chain;
And Error, in freedom, will come to lamenting his stain,
Till freely repenting he whiten his spirit again;
And Friendship, in freedom, will blot out the bounding of race;
And straight Law, in freedom, will curve to the rounding of grace;
And Fashion, in freedom, will die of the lie in her face.
Sidney Lanier.