Thy fleets to all regions thy power shall display,
  The nations admire, and the ocean obey;
  Each shore to thy glory its tribute unfold,
  And the East and the South yield their spices and gold. 
  As the dayspring unbounded thy splendor shall flow,
  And earth’s little kingdoms before thee shall bow,
  While the ensigns of union, in triumph unfurled,
  Hush the tumult of war, and give peace to the world.

  Thus, as down a lone valley, with cedars o’er-spread,
  From war’s dread confusion, I pensively strayed,—­
  The gloom from the face of fair heaven retired;
  The wind ceased to murmur, the thunders expired;
  Perfumes, as of Eden, flowed sweetly along,
  And a voice, as of angels, enchantingly sung: 
  “Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise,
  The queen of the world, and the child of the skies!”

TIMOTHY DWIGHT.

* * * * *

ON THE PROSPECT OF PLANTING ARTS AND LEARNING IN AMERICA.

  The Muse, disgusted at an age and clime
    Barren of every glorious theme,
  In distant lands now waits a better time,
    Producing subjects worthy fame.

  In happy climes, where from the genial sun
    And virgin earth such scenes ensue,
  The force of art by nature seems outdone,
    And fancied beauties by the true: 

  In happy climes, the seat of innocence,
    Where nature guides and virtue rules,
  Where men shall not impose for truth and sense
    The pedantry of courts and schools: 

  There shall be sung another golden age,
    The rise of empire and of arts,
  The good and great inspiring epic rage,
    The wisest heads and noblest hearts.

  Not such as Europe breeds in her decay: 
    Such as she bred when fresh and young,
  When heavenly flame did animate her clay,
    By future poets shall be sung.

  Westward the course of empire takes its way;
    The first four acts already past,
  A fifth shall close the drama with the day;
    Time’s noblest offspring is the last.

BISHOP GEORGE BERKELEY.

* * * * *

ENGLAND TO AMERICA.

  Nor force nor fraud shall sunder us!  O ye
    Who north or south, or east or western land,
    Native to noble sounds, say truth for truth,
  Freedom for freedom, love for love, and God
    For God; O ye who in eternal youth
    Speak with a living and creative flood
    This universal English, and do stand
    Its breathing book; live worthy of that grand
    Heroic utterance—­parted, yet a whole,
      Far, yet unsevered,—­children brave and free
      Of the great Mother tongue, and ye shall be
    Lords of an empire wide as Shakespeare’s soul,
        Sublime as Milton’s immemorial theme,
  And rich as Chaucer’s speech, and fair as Spenser’s dream.