Of all the knights of England, That ever in armor shone, The boldest and the truest heart Was that of brave Sir John.{12} He had pass’d through perils on the land, And perils on the sea, And oftentimes confronted death In Gaul and Germany; And many a Transylvanian Could point to the spot and show Where the boldest of the Turkish knights Were by his hand laid low. And when confined in dungeons, Or driven as a slave, The rescue that his own arm brought, Proved well Sir John was brave. But now he was a pioneer In a new world’s solitude; The first to tread his pathless way Where frown’d the wild old wood; And wilder still, the savage tribes Like fiends look’d fierce and grim, But they stirr’d not the blood of brave Sir John, For nothing daunted him. To plant a British colony He had cross’d the wide, wide sea, And found thy future heritage, O sacred liberty! Now, infant Jamestown, smiled the morn, That should behold thy christening; That gallant band have lined thy shores, And named thee after England’s king; And well might English hearts beat high When first they breath’d thy virgin air, For never to them seem’d sky so bright, Nor ever a land so fair.{13} Young hope was hovering o’er thy groves With her banner wide unfurl’d, And on it a mighty empire shone, The glory of the world. And fancy saw the wilderness Like magic melt away, And tender blossoms of the earth Spring to the light of day; And streams, that through the solemn wood Their ancient courses run, Felt the fresh breath of mountain airs, And brighten’d in the sun; And far along the ocean shore The sails of commerce flew, And up a thousand shelter’d bays Bright cities rose to view; And all the wide-spread continent, That slept in dark repose, Awoke to life and loveliness, And blossom’d as the rose. II. Now crack’d the woodman’s axe full loud, And fast the sturdy forest bow’d: Tall trees, that waved like fields of grain, Came crackling, crashing to the plain; Their green leaves faded in the sun, And flashing fires across them run; And openings spread, and fields were clear’d, And rustic huts and cabins rear’d. A picket fort by the river side The battle-axe and bow defied; And the mingled hum of the busy throng Echo’d the hills and woods along, And joyous shoutings, wild and free, Rose from the infant colony. III.