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TO AMERICA
Published in the English Review London, England October 1914 (pages 273-279)
Thou fair Republic oversea afar, Where long blue ripples lap the fertile land, Whose manifest dominion, like a star, Fixed by the iron hands and swords of war,[1] Now must for aye, a constellation, stand— Thou new strong nation! as the eagle aspires To match the sun’s own fires, Children of our land, hear the children of your sires!
Of peace are spread beneath you and your foe. O race of man that slay the slaves of kings! We, whom the foam-crowned ocean still enrings, We, whose strong freedom never brooked a blow, Hail you now victors, hail you of the sword Proved in the west the lord, Hail you, and bid you sound quick friendship and accord.
The eagle of your emblem would not stoop To the proud threats of that outrageous wing That Bismark reared, and strengthened, and bade swoop Fierce upon France, whose pallid pinions droop To own an Emperor where she mocked a king: Their challenge you hurled back across the foam: Vienna and tall Rome Trembled for their ally: You stirred our hearts at home.
The fire of love no waters shall devour; The faith of friendship stands the shocks of time; Seal with your voice the triumph of this hour, Your glory to our glory and our power, Alliance of one tongue, one faith, one clime! Seal and clasp hands; and let the sea proclaim Friendship of righteous fame, And lordship of two worlds that time can never tame.
White slaves shall look up and behold a light Grow in the islands of the sacred sea, And on the land whose forehead kisses night And has the dawn upon its wings, whose might Is mightier for the lips of Liberty Presses on its new-born cheek, when Church and State Drove forth to baffle Fate Our sires and yours, whose fame is grown this year so great.
That morning of deliverance is at hand; The world requickens, and all folk rejoice, Seeing our kingdom look toward your land, And both catch hands, a nuptial Heaven-planned Because of Earth’s free peoples the free choice. Your winds that wrought wild wreckage on our shore Shall sink and be no more, Or waft your barks, with wheat gold-laden, swiftly o’er.
Our foamcaps, that your rocks disdainful flung Back to the waves that left our beaten coast, Shall be like echoes of sweet songs unsung, And all the ocean noises find a tongue To voice the clamour of a righteous boast— That friendship and dominion shall be wrought Out of the womb of thought, And all bygone days be held for things of naught.
What matter though our fathers did you wrong? Though brave sons brake our bitter yoke? Though we Strove, steel on steel, encountered, thong to thong? What, though the stronger did defeat the strong? Both, wild and patient as the steep strong sea? What matter that some strive to waken hate? Traitors to either state, Hang them in chains! Our way to Freedom cannot wait!
The petty partisans of party war, The hireling quillmen, and the jingo crowd, The well-paid patriots, scenting from afar Silence, their doom—shall they eclipse the star Now crescent in the sky, whose music loud Rejoices humble hearts and true men all, And sounds the funeral Dirge of slave, tyrant, priest, that snarl, and snarling fall?
These we forget—remembering only this: Ye are blood-brothers, and our tongues are one; Our hopes and conquests in one splendid kiss Unite and struggle not for empire. Is Our land and yours too little for the sun To gladden, to illume, to bid increase, Bound by two mighty seas In one fraternal clasp of admirable peace?
Ye are our brothers; ye have spurned the power That bound the islands of your eastern shore Ye have restored to freedom that fair flower, Cuba, in her most agonizing hour, And east and west have thundered with red war. We freed us from the slavery of Spain, And laid upon the main Our hand three centuries back—and ye have struck again.
Priestcraft and tyranny in this defeat Shake, and the walls of hell with fear resound; The sun laughs gladlier on the heavier wheat, Because the fates must weave a winding-sheet At last for Fear. Deliverers are found Who will deliver. Mountain, stream, and brake, Lone wood, and sleepy lake, Are peopled with bright shapes that sing for freedom’s sake.
Rocks, and pale fountains, and tall trees that quiver, And all the clouds that deck the sunset sky Move like the music of a mighty river Where ripples break, and rapids gleam and shiver, And calm rebuilds her empire bye-and-bye For joy of this alliance all the earth Forgets her day of dearth, In her new birth forgets, and madness into mirth.
The stars swing censers of pale gold to God, Whose incense is the love-song of the free; Angels with mercy and with beauty shod Move in the mazes of an Eden, trod Not by the seemly spirits of the sea, But by brave men built wholly of desire And freedom’s mystic fire, To clothe its habitants with glorious attire.
Clasp hands, O fair republic of the west, And leave the kingdoms to their sudden fate. With new-born love and ardour unrepressed, Let Lethe steep in its unquiet rest The old years whose red hands have made us great. O fair republic, strong and swift, unbind The shackles of thy mind! More than our kin ye are; henceforth not less than kind!
Bind on the splendid sandals, and unloose The burning horses, and fling wide the reins! From Danzig’s ice to sunny Syracuse Europe shall see and tremble and ask truce, And new blood pour through Asia’s wasted veins. Our Empire from Guiana to Hong Kong, In your new love made strong, Shall last while earth is glad because of sun and song.
And O! ye desert places of the sea, Ye plains and mountains rugged with the wind, And all ye hollow caverns whence there flee Foam-heads and blusterous waves, give ear to me, And O thou thunder, follow hard behind! O womb of night, reverberate these chords, Ye clouds, ye stormy lords, With clamour and shrill voice as of ten thousand swords:—
Swords that clang sharp on heaven’s anvil, white With heat of God’s own forehead that beholds The building broken that is made of might, Nor builded firm on justice’ iron height, Nor is not cast in mercy’s silver mould:— Swords sharp to slay, when vengeance must its fill Drink of the bloody rill Wherein men lave their mouths, arise and smite and kill!
Listen, all lands, and wonder! For the night Rolls back her beaten iron, and the day Breaks, and the passionate heralds of the light, Armoured with love for panoply of might, Rush on the portals of the falling way. The lamps of heaven are dim while swords strike fire From rocks whose crests burn higher: At their assault hell’s dogs gasp, totter, and expire.
All the gold gates are open of the East; The rugged columns of the hills uphold A dome of changeless turquoise, and they feast, The sun’s lips, on the woods that have increased Since dawn with store of unimagined gold. The steam of many exhalations rare Sweetens the midday air; Earth’s oriflamme advanced, Heaven’s silver spears aflare!
The broad Pacific brightens into blue, And coral isles are white with beating flame Of living water on their strand, live through With million flames candescent as the dew, Red flowers too queenly for a mortal name! The sea is pregnant with green stars; the land, The sky, like lovers stand With kiss half-consciously exchanged, hand fast in hand.
O lovers fair and free, the wings of peace Bear this voice onward; linger as you will By moon-wrought glades, and softly murmuring seas, Lands white with summer, and the quiet leas! Linger, and let no word of music thrill Your hearts; young love is all the harp ye need: Your kiss in very deed Is keen to echo song well tuned from Milton’s reed.
O lovers, and ye happy groves that hear Their whispers, and ye vales that know their feet, And all ye mountains that incline your ear To the wise whisper of the love-lorn sphere, And all ye caves their murmurs who repeat; Your music throbs in unison with mine; The world is flushed with wine Bubbling from Freedom’s well, warm, luminous, divine.
Burn, changeful purple of the vine’s cool stream! Burn, like the sunset of a stormy sky When white winds gather, and white horses gleam Upon the ocean, and the meadows steam With haze of thunder, when the crimson eye Dips, and deep darkness falls and lies, and breaks In lightning’s fearful flakes, When thunder unto thunder calls, and the storm awakes.
With maddening hoofs, ye coursers of the sun, Spurn the reverberant air, and paw the day! Make east and west indissolubly one! Strike down the darkness, its dominion done, And bid light gird its sword to thigh, display The shield of heaven’s blue, and call the deep To watch the warrior sleep Of two fast friends that wake only if brave men weep!
Wake, western land so fair, and this shall be! Speak and accomplish! Let no ardour slip. A sullen hound, slink sly and shamefully To Hell’s heel, storm exacerbate the sea, And spoil a perfect kiss from the free land’s lip O fair free sister country, for our sake, Who at thy side would break All bars, all bonds, and bid the very dead awake!
Are not your veins made purple with our blood, And our dominions touch they not afield? Pours not the sea its long exultant flood On either’s coast? The rose has one same bud, And the vine’s heart one purple pledge doth yield. Are we not weary of the fanged pen? Are we not friends, and men? Let us look frankly face to face—and quarrel then!
Oh! By the groves of green and quiet ways, And on the windy reaches of the river, In moonlit night and blue unbroken days, And where the cold ice breaks in pallid bays, And where dim dawns in frosty forest shiver, Where India burns and far Australia glows, Where cactus blooms, where rose, Let our hearts’ beat be heard, to lighten many woes!
Sister and daughter of our loyal isle, Our hands reach out to you, our lips are fain To wreathe with yours in one delicious smile Of budding love, to grow a kiss awhile, And laugh like bride and groom, and kiss again! Let our alliance like a marriage stand, Supreme from strand to strand, The likeness of our love, the clasp of hand in hand.
And men who come behind us yet unborn, Nor dimly guessed at down the brook of time, Shall celebrate the brave undying morn When the free nations put aside their scorn For friendship, rock no sundering surge may climb, When their strong hands gripped hard across the sea, Flushed with fresh victory, Lands royal, leal, and great, vast, beautiful, and free.
Our children’s children shall unsheathe the sword Against the envy of some tyrant power; The leader of your people and our lord Shall join to wrest from slavery abhorred Some other race, a fair storm-ruined flower! O fair republic, lover and sweet friend, Your loyal hand extend! Let freedom, peace and faith grow stronger to the end!
O child of freedom, thou are very fair! Thon hast white roses on thy eager breast; The scent of all the South in thy hair; Thy lips are fragrant with the blossoms rare Blown under sea waves when the white wings rest! Come to our warrior breast, where victory Sits passionate and free— Ring out the wild salute! Our sister over sea!
1—This poem was first written at the conclusion of the Spanish-American War. |