They know not, in their hate and pride,
  What virtues with thy children bide,—­
  How true, how good, thy graceful maids
  Make bright, like flowers, the valley shades;
      What generous men
  Spring, like thine oaks, by hill and glen;

  What cordial welcomes greet the guest
  By thy lone rivers of the west;
  How faith is kept, and truth revered,
  And man is loved, and God is feared,
      In woodland homes,
  And where the ocean border foams.

  There’s freedom at thy gates, and rest
  For earth’s down-trodden and opprest,
  A shelter for the hunted head,
  For the starved laborer toil and bread. 
      Power, at thy bounds,
  Stops, and calls back his baffled hounds.

  O fair young mother! on thy brow
  Shall sit a nobler grace than now. 
  Deep in the brightness of thy skies,
  The thronging years in glory rise,
      And, as they fleet,
  Drop strength and riches at thy feet.

  Thine eye, with every coming hour,
  Shall brighten, and thy form shall tower;
  And when thy sisters, elder born,
  Would brand thy name with words of scorn,
      Before thine eye
  Upon their lips the taunt shall die.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

* * * * *

COLUMBIA.

  Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise,
  The queen of the world, and the child of the skies! 
  Thy genius commands thee; with rapture behold,
  While ages on ages thy splendors unfold. 
  Thy reign is the last and the noblest of time,
  Most fruitful thy soil, most inviting thy clime;
  Let the crimes of the East ne’er encrimson thy name,
  Be freedom and science and virtue thy fame.

  To conquest and slaughter let Europe aspire;
  Whelm nations in blood, and wrap cities in fire;
  Thy heroes the rights of mankind shall defend,
  And triumph pursue them, and glory attend. 
  A world is thy realm; for a world be thy laws
  Enlarged as thine empire, and just as thy cause;
  On Freedom’s broad basis that empire shall rise,
  Extend with the main, and dissolve with the skies.

  Fair Science her gates to thy sons shall unbar,
  And the East see thy morn hide the beams of her star;
  New bards and new sages unrivalled shall soar
  To fame unextinguished when time is no more;
  To thee, the last refuge of virtue designed,
  Shall fly from all nations the best of mankind;
  Here, grateful to Heaven, with transport shall bring
  Their incense, more fragrant than odors of spring.

  Nor less shall thy fair ones to glory ascend,
  And genius and beauty in harmony blend;
  The graces of form shall awake pure desire,
  And the charms of the soul ever cherish the fire;
  Their sweetness unmingled, their manners refined,
  And virtue’s bright image, enstamped on the mind,
  With peace and soft rapture shall teach life to glow,
  And light up a smile on the aspect of woe.