“No treasure we bring from Erin--nor bring we shame nor guilt! The sword we hold may be broken, but we have not dropped the hilt! The wreath we bear to Columbia is twisted of thorns, not bays, And the songs we sing are saddened by thoughts of desolate days. But the hearts we bring for Freedom are washed in the surge of tears, And we claim our right by a People’s fight outliving a thousand years!” “What bring ye else to the Building?” “Oh, willing hands to toil; Strong natures tuned to the harvest-song and bound to the kindly soil; Bold pioneers for the wilderness, defenders in the field,-- The sons of a race of soldiers who never learned to yield. Young hearts with duty brimming--as faith makes sweet the due; Their truth to me their witness they cannot be false to you!” “What send ye else, old Mother, to raise our mighty wall? For we must build against Kings and Wrongs a fortress never to fall.” “I send you in cradle and bosom, wise brain and eloquent tongue, Whose crowns should engild my crowning, whose songs for me should be sung. Oh, flowers unblown, from lonely fields, my daughters with hearts aglow, With pulses warm with sympathies, with bosoms pure as snow,-- I smile through tears as the clouds unroll--my widening river that runs! My lost ones grown in radiant growth--proud mothers of free-born sons.” “It is well, aye, well, old Erin! The sons you give to me Are symboled long in flag and song--your Sunburst on the Sea. All mine by the chrism of Freedom, still yours by their love’s belief; And truest to me shall the tenderest be in a suffering Mother’s grief. Their loss is the change of the wave to the cloud, of the dew to the river and main; Their hope shall persist through the sea and the mist, and thy streams shall be filled again. As the smolt of the salmon go down to the sea, and as surely come back to the river, Their love shall be yours while your sorrow endures, for God guardeth His right forever.” THE PILGRIM FATHERS