Borne up my Chesapeak, as first he hails The flowery banks that scent his slackening sails, Descending twilight mellows down the gleam That spreads far forward on the broad blue stream; The moonbeam dancing, as the pendants glide, Silvers with trembling tints the ripply tide; The sand-sown beach, the rocky bluff repays The faint effulgence with their amber'd rays; O'er greenwood glens a browner lustre flies, And bright-hair'd hills walk shadowy round the skies. Profound solicitude and strong delight Absorb the chief, as thro the waste of night He walks the lonely deck, and skirts the lands That wait their nations from his guiding hands. Tall thro the tide the river Sires by turns Rise round the bark and blend their social urns; Majestic brotherhood! each feels the power To feed an empire from his future store. They stand stupendous, flooding full the bay, And pointing each thro different climes the way. Resplendent o'er the rest, the regent god Potowmak towers, and sways the swelling flood; Vines clothe his arms, wild fruits o'erfill his horn, Wreaths of green maize his reverend brows adorn, His silver beard reflects the lunar day, And round his loins the scaly nations play. The breeze falls calm, the sails in silence rest, While thus his greetings cheer the stranger guest: Blest be the bark that seized the promised hour To waft thee welcome to this friendly shore! Long have we learnt the fame that here awaits The future sires of our unplanted states; We all salute thee with our mingling tides, Our high-fenced havens and our fruitful sides. The hundred realms our myriad fountains drain Shall lose their limits in the vast domain; But my bold banks with proud impatience wait The palm of glory in a work so great; On me thy sons their central seat shall raise, And crown my labors with distinguish'd praise. For this, from rock-ribb'd lakes I forced my birth, And climb'd and sunder'd many a mound of earth, Rent the huge hills that yonder heave on high And with their tenfold ridges rake the sky, Removed whole mountains in my headlong way, Strow'd a strong soil around this branching Bay, Scoop'd wide his basins to the distant main, And hung with headlands every marsh they drain. Haste then, my heroes, tempt the fearless toil, Enrich your nations with the nurturing spoil; O'er my vast vales let yellow harvests wave, Quay the calm ports and dike the lawns I lave. Win from the waters every stagnant fen, Where truant rills escape my conscious ken; And break those remnant rocks that still impede My current crowding thro the gaps I made.