the breaking waves dashed high

        On a stern and rock-bound coast,

        And t a stormy sky,

        t brancost;

        And t hung dark

        ter oer,

        heir bark

        On the wild New England shore.

        Not as the queror es,

        true-ed, came;

        N drums,

        And trumpet t sings of fame;

        Not as the flying e,

        In silend in fear, -

        ts gloom

        ity cheer.

        Amidst torm they sang,

        And tars he sea;

        And the dim wo

        to the free.

        the o-eagle soared

        From    by te waves foam,

        And t roared -

        their wele home!

        th hoary hair

        Amidst t pilgrim band:

        o here,

        Aheir childhoods land?

        there was womans fearless eye,

        Lit by ruth;

        there was manhoods brow serenely high,

        And t of youth.

        soughus afar?

        Brighe mine?

        the spoils of war? -

        t a faiths pure shrine!

        Ay, call it holy ground,

        t trod!

        t unstained hey found -

        Freedom to worship God!
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