He spoke; and silent tow'rd the northern sky Wide o'er the hills the Hero cast his eye, Saw the long floods thro devious channels pour, And wind their currents to the opening shore; Interior seas and lonely lakes display Their glittering glories to the beams of day. Thy capes, Virginia, towering from the tide, Raise their blue banks, and slope thy barriers wide, To future sails unfold an inland way, And guard secure thy multifluvian Bay; That drains uncounted realms, and here unites The liquid mass from Alleganian heights. York leads his wave, imbank'd in flowery pride, And nobler James falls winding by his side; Back to the hills, thro many a silent vale, While Rappahanok seems to lure the sail, Patapsco's bosom courts the hand of toil, Dull Susquehanna laves a length of soil; But mightier far, in sealike azure spread, Potowmak sweeps his earth disparting bed. Long dwelt his eye where these commingling pour'd, Their waves unkeel'd, their havens unexplored; Where frowning forests stretch the dusky wing, And deadly damps forbid the flowers to spring; No seasons clothe the field with cultured grain, No buoyant ship attempts the chartless main; Then with impatient voice: My Seer, he cried, When shall my children cross the lonely tide? Here, here my sons, the hand of culture bring, Here teach the lawn to smile, the grove to sing: Ye laboring floods, no longer vainly glide, Ye harvests load them, and ye forests ride; Bear the deep burden from the joyous swain, And tell the world where peace and plenty reign. Hesper to this return'd him no reply, But raised new visions to his roving eye. He saw broad Delaware the shores divide, He saw majestic Hudson pour his tide; Thy stream, my Hartford, thro its misty robe, Play'd in the sunbeams, belting far the globe; No watery glades thro richer vallies shine, Nor drinks the sea a lovelier wave than thine. Mystick and Charles refresh their seaward isles, And gay Piscateway pays his passing smiles; Swift Kenebec, high bursting from his lakes, Shoots down the hillsides thro the clouds he makes; And hoarse resounding, gulphing wide the shore, Dread Laurence labors with tremendous roar; Laurence, great son of Ocean! lorn he lies, And braves the blasts of hyperborean skies. Where hoary winter holds his howling reign, And April flings her timid showers in vain, Groans the choked Flood, in frozen fetters bound, And isles of ice his angry front surround.