When first they trod that wild and wintry shore,
And such th’ observance of their sterling sons,
Who, scattered o’er the freeman’s heritage,
Remember their bold ancestry with pride,
And where they tread, make new New England’s bloom.
—
The days grow shorter, and the nights with frost
Creep shivering o’er the landscape’s fading green.
The village stage comes in at later hour,
From city, town, and distant boarding-school