My first in kingdoms you will find
Where sovereigns great have reign;
My second on the Atlantic see,
When brave hearts cross the main.
My whole, an ally strong and bold
Of a United State,
If on the map you think to find,
Some time you’ll have to wait.
[8]
When night-winds whistle o’er the plain,
And howls the storm in many a burst,
How cheering to the way-worn swain
To seek the shelter of my first!
With cunning shining in his face,
From eyes so watchful, keen, and dark,
The scion of a remnant race—
My artful second you may mark.
My third in bearded front arrayed,
With Autumn’s golden stores is found;
Yet torn, and bruised, and lowly laid,
Its head must rest upon the ground.
My whole you always must forgive,
As you expect to be forgiven;
Nor must it in your memory live,
Though multiplied to seven times seven.
[9]
I stand on my first, on my second I sit,
On my whole I do either just as I think fit.