Trimountain
Sicut cum patribus sit Deus nobis
The land that has no song
Shall have a song today,
The granite ledge is dumb too long,
The vales have much to say.
Its men can teach the lightning speech,
And round the globe their voices reach.
The rocky Nook with hilltops three
Looked eastward from the farms,
And twice a day the flowing sea
Took Boston in its arms:
The men of yore were stout & poor,
And sailed for bread to every shore.
The waves that rocked them on the deep
To them their secret told,
Said the winds that sung the lads to sleep,
" Like us be free & bold.
The honest waves refuse to slaves
The empire of the Ocean caves. "
And where they went, on trade intent,
They did what freemen can;
Their dauntless ways did all men praise,
The merchant was a man.
The world was made for honest trade,
To plant & eat be none afraid.
Old Europe groans with palaces
Has lords enough & more
We plant & build by foaming seas
A city of the poor.
For what avail the plough & sail,
Or land, or life, if freedom fail?
The noble craftsman we promote,
Disown the knave & fool;
Each honest man shall have his vote,
Each child shall have his school.
We grant no dukedoms to the few,
We hold like rights & shall,
Equal on Sunday in the pew,
On Monday in the mall.
Fair rose the planted hills behind
The good town on the Bay,
And where the western slopes declined
The prairie stretched away.
Out from the many-fountained earth
The rivers gushed & foamed,
Sweet airs from every forest forth
Around the mountains roamed.
What rival towers majestic soar
Along the stormy coast, —
Penn's town, New York, & Baltimore,
If Boston knew the most!
They laughed to know the world so wide,
The mountains said, " Good-day!
We greet you well, you Saxon men,
Up with your towns, & stay. "
" For you, " they said, " no barriers be,
For you no sluggard's rest;
Each street leads downward to the Sea,
Or land-ward to the West. "
The townsmen braved the English King,
Found friendship in the French,
And Honor joined the patriot ring
Low on their wooden bench.
O bounteous seas that never fail!
O day remembered yet!
O happy port that spied the sail
Which wafted Lafayette!
Abdiel bright, in Europe's night,
That never faltered from the right.
O pity that I pause, —
The song disdaining shuns
To name the noble sires, because
Of the unworthy sons:
For what avail the plough & sail,
Or land, or life, if freedom fail?
But there was chaff within the flour,
And one was false in ten;
And reckless clerks in lust of power
Forgot the rights of men;
Cruel & blind did file their mind,
And sell the blood of human kind.
Your town is full of gentle names
By patriots once were watchwords made;
Those war-cry names are muffled shames
On recreant sons mislaid.
What slave shall dare a name to wear
Once Freedom's passport everywhere?
O welaway! if this be so,
And man cannot afford the right,
And if the wage of love is woe,
And honest dealing yield despite.
For what avail the plough & sail,
Or land, or life, if freedom fail?
Hie to the woods, sleek citizen!
Back to the sea, go landsmen down!
Climb the White Hills, sleek aldermen,
And vacant leave the town:
Ere these echoes be choked with snows,
Or over the roofs blue Ocean flows.
The sea returning day by day
Restores the world-wide mart,
So let each dweller on the Bay
Fold Boston in his heart.
For what avail the plough & sail,
Or land or life, if freedom fail?
Let the blood of her hundred thousands
Throb in each manly vein
And the wit of all her wisest
Make sunshine in his brain.
A union then of honest men,
Or Union nevermore again.
And each shall care for other,
And each to each shall bend,
To the poor a noble brother,
To the good an equal friend.
A blessing through the ages thus
Shield all thy roofs & towers!
God with the fathers, So with us!
Thou darling town of ours!
The land that has no song
Shall have a song today,
The granite ledge is dumb too long,
The vales have much to say.
Its men can teach the lightning speech,
And round the globe their voices reach.
The rocky Nook with hilltops three
Looked eastward from the farms,
And twice a day the flowing sea
Took Boston in its arms:
The men of yore were stout & poor,
And sailed for bread to every shore.
The waves that rocked them on the deep
To them their secret told,
Said the winds that sung the lads to sleep,
" Like us be free & bold.
The honest waves refuse to slaves
The empire of the Ocean caves. "
And where they went, on trade intent,
They did what freemen can;
Their dauntless ways did all men praise,
The merchant was a man.
The world was made for honest trade,
To plant & eat be none afraid.
Old Europe groans with palaces
Has lords enough & more
We plant & build by foaming seas
A city of the poor.
For what avail the plough & sail,
Or land, or life, if freedom fail?
The noble craftsman we promote,
Disown the knave & fool;
Each honest man shall have his vote,
Each child shall have his school.
We grant no dukedoms to the few,
We hold like rights & shall,
Equal on Sunday in the pew,
On Monday in the mall.
Fair rose the planted hills behind
The good town on the Bay,
And where the western slopes declined
The prairie stretched away.
Out from the many-fountained earth
The rivers gushed & foamed,
Sweet airs from every forest forth
Around the mountains roamed.
What rival towers majestic soar
Along the stormy coast, —
Penn's town, New York, & Baltimore,
If Boston knew the most!
They laughed to know the world so wide,
The mountains said, " Good-day!
We greet you well, you Saxon men,
Up with your towns, & stay. "
" For you, " they said, " no barriers be,
For you no sluggard's rest;
Each street leads downward to the Sea,
Or land-ward to the West. "
The townsmen braved the English King,
Found friendship in the French,
And Honor joined the patriot ring
Low on their wooden bench.
O bounteous seas that never fail!
O day remembered yet!
O happy port that spied the sail
Which wafted Lafayette!
Abdiel bright, in Europe's night,
That never faltered from the right.
O pity that I pause, —
The song disdaining shuns
To name the noble sires, because
Of the unworthy sons:
For what avail the plough & sail,
Or land, or life, if freedom fail?
But there was chaff within the flour,
And one was false in ten;
And reckless clerks in lust of power
Forgot the rights of men;
Cruel & blind did file their mind,
And sell the blood of human kind.
Your town is full of gentle names
By patriots once were watchwords made;
Those war-cry names are muffled shames
On recreant sons mislaid.
What slave shall dare a name to wear
Once Freedom's passport everywhere?
O welaway! if this be so,
And man cannot afford the right,
And if the wage of love is woe,
And honest dealing yield despite.
For what avail the plough & sail,
Or land, or life, if freedom fail?
Hie to the woods, sleek citizen!
Back to the sea, go landsmen down!
Climb the White Hills, sleek aldermen,
And vacant leave the town:
Ere these echoes be choked with snows,
Or over the roofs blue Ocean flows.
The sea returning day by day
Restores the world-wide mart,
So let each dweller on the Bay
Fold Boston in his heart.
For what avail the plough & sail,
Or land or life, if freedom fail?
Let the blood of her hundred thousands
Throb in each manly vein
And the wit of all her wisest
Make sunshine in his brain.
A union then of honest men,
Or Union nevermore again.
And each shall care for other,
And each to each shall bend,
To the poor a noble brother,
To the good an equal friend.
A blessing through the ages thus
Shield all thy roofs & towers!
God with the fathers, So with us!
Thou darling town of ours!
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