Der Deutsche correspondent. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1848-1918, 1876-07-07
] uIy T., 1876.
Sun Of the Stately Dav.


Sun of the Stately Day.
Let Asia into the shadow drift,
Let Europe bask in thy ripened ray,
And over the severing ocean lift
brow Of broader spendor!
Give light to the eager eyes
OF the Land that waits to behold thee rise
The gladness of morning lend her,
With the triumph of noon attend her,
And the peace of skies
For 10! she cometh now
With hope on the lip and pride on the brow,
Stronger, and dearer. and fairer.
To smile on the love we bear her.
To live, as we dreamed her and sought her,
Liberty's latest daughter!
In the clefts of the rocks, in the secret places
We found her traces;
On the hills, in the crash of woods that fall,
We heard her call
When the lines of battle broke,
We saw her face in the fiery smoke;
Through toll, and anguish, and desolation,
We followed and found her
With the grace of Virgin Nation
As a sacred zone around her!
Who shall rejoice
With righteous voice,
Farheard through the ages if not she9
For the menace is dumb that defed her,
The doubt is dead that denied her,
And she stands acknowledged, and strong and free
On the shores of a Continent cast,
She won the inViolate soil
By loss Of heirloom of all the Past,
And faith in the royal right of Toll!
She planted houses on the savage sod:
Into the wilderness alone
She walked with fearless feet,
In her hand the divining-rod,
Till the views Of the mountains beat
With fire of metal and force of stone!
She set the speed of the rver-head
To turn the mills of her bread;
She drove her pOwshare deep
Through the prairie's thousand-centuried slcep;
To the South, and West, and North,
She called Pathfinder forth,
Her faithful and sole companion,
Where the flushed Sierra, snowy-starred
Her way to the sunset farred
And the nameless rivers in thunder and foam
Channeled the terrible canyon!
Nor paused, till her uttermost home
Was built, in the smile of a softer sky
And the glory of beauty still to be,
Where the haunted waves of Asia die
On the strand OF the worldwide sea!
FOreseen in the vision of sages
Foretold when martyrs bled
She was born of the longing of ages,
By tho truth of the noble dead
And the faith of the living fed!
No blood in her lightest veins
Frets at remembered chains,
Nor shame of bondage has bowed her head
In her form and features still
The unbenching Puritan will,
Cavalier honor, Huguenot grace,
7 he Quaker truth and sweetness,
And the strength of the danger girdled race
OF Holland, blend in proud completeness.
From the houses of all, where her being began,
She took what she gave to Man:
Justice, that knew no station,
Relief, as soul decreed,
Free air for aspiration,
Free force for independent deed!
She takes but to give again,
As the sea returns the rivers in rain;
And gathers the chosen of her seed
From the hunted Of every crown and creed.
Her Germany dwellsby genter Rhine;
Her Ireland sees the old sunburst shine;
Her France pursues some dream divine;
Har
Her Italy waits by the western brine
And broad based under all,
Is planted Englands oaken-hearted mood,
As rich in fortitude
A e'er went woodward from the island-wall
Fused in her candid light,
To one strong race all races here unite
Tongues melt in hers, hereditary foemen
Forget their sword and slogan, kith and clan:
Twas glory, once, to be Roman;
She makes it glory. now, to be man!
Behold! she bendeth now,
Humbling the chaplet of her hundred years:
There is solemn sweetness on her brow,
And in her eyes are sacred tears.
Can she forget,
In present joy, the burden of her debt,
When for a captive race
She grandly staked and won
The total promise CT her power begun,
And barred her bosoms grace
To the sharp wound that inly tortures yet
Can she forget
The million graves her young devotion set,
The hands that clasp above
From either side, in sad, returning loves
Can she forget,
Here, where the Ruler Of today,
The Citizen of to morrow,
and equal thousands to rejoice and pray
Beside these holy walls are met,
Her birth-cry, mixed of keenest bliss and sorrow
Where on July's immortal morn
Held forth, the People saw her head
And shouted to the world: 'The King is dead,
But 10! the Heir is born!h
When fire of Youth, and sober trust Of Age
in Farmer, Soldier, Priest and Sage,
Arose and cast upon her
Baptismal garments, never robes so fair
lad prince in Old world air.
Their lives, their fortunes, ,and their sacred honor
II.
All, hark the solemn undertone
On every wind of human story blown.
A large, diviney- moulded Fate
Questions the right and purpose Of State,