3

Fecund America—to-day,

Thou art all over set in births and joys!

Thou groan'st with riches, thy wealth clothes thee as a swathing garment,

Thou laughest loud with ache of great possessions,

A myriad-twining life like interlacing vines binds all thy vast demesne,

As some huge ship freighted to water's edge thou ridest into port,

As rain falls from the heaven and vapours rise from the earth, so have the precious values fallen upon thee and risen out of thee;

Thou envy of the globe! thou miracle!

Thou, bathed, choked, swimming in plenty,

Thou lucky Mistress of the tranquil barns,

Thou Prairie Dame that sittest in the middle and lookest out upon thy world, and lookest East and lookest West,

Dispensatress, that by a word givest a thousand miles, a million farms, and missest nothing,

Thou all-acceptress—thou hospitable (thou only art hospitable as God is hospitable).

4

When late I sang sad was my voice,

Sad were the shows around me with deafening noises of hatred and smoke of war;

In the midst of the conflict, the heroes, I stood,

Or pass'd with slow step through the wounded and dying.

But now I sing not war,

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