A mother young and fair—
“No flower like thee adorns the vale,
O sweet Virginia Dare!
Thou art the lily of our love,
The forest’s sylph-like queen,
The first-born bud from Saxon stem
That this New World hath seen;
“Thy father’s axe in thicket rings,
To fell the kingly tree;
Thy grandsire sails o’er ocean-brine—