Oh, where, think ye, is now the West,
The far, far West, the land of dreams,
Whose hills and vales, with virgin breast,
Still slumber in their ancient rest,
Lulled by the voice of plaintive streams?
From Mexico, where airs are bland,
To Oregon's impetuous flood,
Already vale and mountain land
Resound to that advancing band
Who proudly boast heroic blood.
Nor distant is the day, perchance,
When yet these sons of valiant sires
Shall win their way by love or lance
To sunnier climes, and e'en advance
Beyond the equator's solar fires.
Thus race to race must ever yield,
And mental power assume the sway:
Broad as the earth the ample field
For those who trust in Virtue's shield,
And Freedom's banner dare display.
The far, far West, 'tis Freedom's now,
The gift of God to earth's oppressed, —
The land where all who take the vow
No more to king or priest to bow
May come, and find their wrongs redressed.
Ay, there shall happy millions yet
Reclaim the soil, and crowd the mart, —
Freemen who thrive by toil and sweat,
Sprinkling the waste with cities set
On hill and plain like gems of art.
And there shall thought yet fly afar
Along the wire, from climes remote,
And blend with thought like star with star;
While startling rolls the frantic car,
And bannered glides the gallant boat.
And there, unawed, the mind of man,
Progressive still, shall still aspire,
Nor yield to creeds that fear to scan
The mystic lore of Nature's plan,
But still, insatiate, aim the higher!
In sooth it needs no prophet's eye
Westward to Ocean's calmer surge
To see the future there outvie
The ancient world, whose glories lie
Pillared on Time's receding verge.
Oh! what, when centuries have rolled,
Will be this mighty Western land?
Her sons — will they be brave and bold,
And still defend her banner's fold?
Her holy altars — will they stand?
The link that binds the sisterhood —
Say, will it brighten and grow strong,
And men bear rule, the great and good,
Who shun dissension, strife, and blood,
Yet cleave to right, nor yield to wrong?
Fear not! with holier influence yet
The years shall come which God ordains;
When Freedom's bounds shall not be set,
Nor man his fellow-man forget
In blind pursuit of sordid gains.
The far, far West, the land of dreams,
Whose hills and vales, with virgin breast,
Still slumber in their ancient rest,
Lulled by the voice of plaintive streams?
From Mexico, where airs are bland,
To Oregon's impetuous flood,
Already vale and mountain land
Resound to that advancing band
Who proudly boast heroic blood.
Nor distant is the day, perchance,
When yet these sons of valiant sires
Shall win their way by love or lance
To sunnier climes, and e'en advance
Beyond the equator's solar fires.
Thus race to race must ever yield,
And mental power assume the sway:
Broad as the earth the ample field
For those who trust in Virtue's shield,
And Freedom's banner dare display.
The far, far West, 'tis Freedom's now,
The gift of God to earth's oppressed, —
The land where all who take the vow
No more to king or priest to bow
May come, and find their wrongs redressed.
Ay, there shall happy millions yet
Reclaim the soil, and crowd the mart, —
Freemen who thrive by toil and sweat,
Sprinkling the waste with cities set
On hill and plain like gems of art.
And there shall thought yet fly afar
Along the wire, from climes remote,
And blend with thought like star with star;
While startling rolls the frantic car,
And bannered glides the gallant boat.
And there, unawed, the mind of man,
Progressive still, shall still aspire,
Nor yield to creeds that fear to scan
The mystic lore of Nature's plan,
But still, insatiate, aim the higher!
In sooth it needs no prophet's eye
Westward to Ocean's calmer surge
To see the future there outvie
The ancient world, whose glories lie
Pillared on Time's receding verge.
Oh! what, when centuries have rolled,
Will be this mighty Western land?
Her sons — will they be brave and bold,
And still defend her banner's fold?
Her holy altars — will they stand?
The link that binds the sisterhood —
Say, will it brighten and grow strong,
And men bear rule, the great and good,
Who shun dissension, strife, and blood,
Yet cleave to right, nor yield to wrong?
Fear not! with holier influence yet
The years shall come which God ordains;
When Freedom's bounds shall not be set,
Nor man his fellow-man forget
In blind pursuit of sordid gains.