Classic Poem

Oft times, when rapture swells the heart,
Expressive silence can impart
More full the joy sublime:
Thus WASHINGTON, my wond'ring mind,
In every grateful ardor join'd,
Tho' words were out of time.

The muse of ******'s peaceful shade,
Gave way to all the gay parade
For transports of her own;
She felt the tear of pleasure flow,
And gratitude's delightful glow
Was to her bosom known.

Triumphal arches — gratulating song,
And shouts of welcome from the mixed throng,
Thy laurels can not raise.
We praise ourselves; exalt our name,
And in the scroll of time, we claim
An int'rest in thy bays.

But erst on Hudson's whit'ned plain,
Where the blue mists enshroud the slain,
And Hero's spirits came;
Anxious to seal thy future fate,
Each on his cloud, in awful state,
Pronounc'd thee good as well as great,
And fill'd thy cup of fame.

While we the favorites of Heaven,
To whom these western climes are given,
And halcyon days await
May bless our selves and bless our race
That God by his peculiar grace
Sav'd thee to rule the state.

Fame as she flies, her trump shall sound,
To all the admiring nations round,
And millions yet unborn,
Will read the history of this day,
And as they read will pause — and say
HERE NATURE TOOK A TURN.

For in the annals of mankind,
Who ever saw a compact bind
An empire's utmost bound;
Who ever saw ambition stand,
Without the power to raise her hand,
While ONE the people crown'd.