the breaking waves dashed high

    On a stern and rock-bound coast,

    And t a stormy sky,

    t brancost;

    And t hung dark

    ter oer,

    heir bark

    On the wild New England shore.

    Not as the conqueror comes,

    true-ed, came;

    Not irring drums,

    And trumpet t sings of fame;

    Not as the flying come,

    In silence and in fear, -

    ts gloom

    ity cheer.

    Amidst torm they sang,

    And tars he sea;

    And the dim woods rang

    to the free.

    the ocean-eagle soared

    From  by te waves foam,

    And t roared -

    their welcome home!

    th hoary hair

    Amidst t pilgrim band:

    o here,

    Aheir childhoods land?

    there was womans fearless eye,

    Lit by ruth;

    there was manhoods brow serenely high,

    And t of youth.

    soughus afar?

    Brighe mine?

    the spoils of war? -

    t a faiths pure shrine!

    Ay, call it holy ground,

    t trod!

    t unstained hey found -

    Freedom to worship God!