1'76. A HUNDRED years! Too long for memory of the justest feud! Last century's quarrel to its end pursued And yours the triumph, may not we grasp hands, Now each one stands Apart from fears? Brothers! that word Makes Tyranny weak; Wrong flies, nor looks behind, Driven as dry leaves before the herald wind That clears the way for spring's most gentle flowers. O waiting hours! Your plaint is heard. Land named of hope! Our best have hailed the promise of thy growth; Surely hath honor's race-ground room for both America and England, side by side, Yet leaving pride Sufficient scope. New England! ours Art thou, as England's thine: thy children own The common parentage. Nor they alone, But wheresoe'er is heard our English tongue -- World-widely flung For coming hours. Be with us then, Thou greater England! second but in time: Our age shall welcome our young giant's prime, As in his sons a father takes delight, Proud of the height Of younger men. O'erstride our fame! Step past the extremest stretch of our renown! Wreathe round Columbia's head the laurel crown Our old heroic worth can well assign! The crown be thine -- In England's name! For we are one, -- In race, in will, in energy the same: Twin aspirations of one-tongued flame. England were fain to see you climb beyond Our hopes most fond, And all we have done. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A YOUNG ASS; ITS MOTHER BEING TETHERED NEAR IT by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE ANIMAL CRACKERS by CHRISTOPHER DARLINGTON MORLEY THE WANDERING JEW by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER INHERITANCE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TWO VOICES by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN METABOAH by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |