Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MY COUNTRY, by AMOS RUSSEL WELLS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MY COUNTRY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Mysterious, my country! -- she abides
Last Line: With their dull shadows lying on the hills.
Subject(s): United States; America


Mysterious, my country! -- she abides
Within a thousand hidings. Queen is she,
But who can find her palace, or discern
With careless eye her royal progresses?
For she it is that cheers the battle on,
Where brave men die, or bravely live, for her;
But who of all her warriors ever saw
Her whirling chariot or flying steeds?
Yet none so witless born or sodden grown
As never to have seen her, half-disclosed, --
Some floating glimpses of her gracious form, --
And, brooding like a lover, drawn them all
To one imperial image.

In her fields,
High-bladed, and her leagues of fruitful sun,
Where happy farm-lands breathe content to heaven,
I feel her breath upon me. Lo, her woods,
Uncounted empires of majestic calm,
Range wide and far; her rivers to the sea,
Like weavers' shuttles curving swiftly down,
Fashion a web of loveliness; her hills,
Upreared with welcoming green or craggy threat,
Compel the tribute of a fleet of clouds;
And sometimes, through a parting of the trees,
Her raiment gleams; and sometimes on a hill
Through drifting mists I see her shining throne.

All other skies than hers are empty masks,
Though painted fair as Eden. Lands afar,
Their glittering vales heaped high with golden fruit,
I praise like statues, -- praise, and cannot love.
Yet everywhere beneath my country's skies
I bear the sense of blessing, surely know
Her eyes behold me though I see them not,
And know her voice although I cannot hear,
And on some crystal days of clarity
I win the benediction of her face.

But these are glimpses, beautiful and rare.
And better far I know my country's form
And see her image: 'tis with living men,
With toiling, mourning, laughing, lowly men,
With blundering men that weep for many a sin,
I find my country dwelling, best content.
Yes, where the market chatters have I found
My country, and upon the clashing street,
And in the mines that pour their gleaming gold
Like sunshine out of midnight, and in mills
Trembling beneath the cruel lash of greed,
And on the hurrying cars that house the wealth
Of Croesus in a day; yes, even there,
Amid the heartless mockeries of trade,
There where the very gold and massy steel
Are freighted with pollution, and the warp
Of every fabric hides the worm of death,
My country dwells, because her sons are there,
And men that honor justice.

I have seen
Flashes of her where mothers kiss their babes,
Where lovers know the joy that empties words,
In yonder lad's ambition-brooding eye,
And in this father, worn, and gladly worn,
For grateful offspring; here my country lives.
And where the ploughman carols to his plough,
My country sings; and where the weakling moves
Protected, and the poor man stands erect,
And little children carry merry hearts
As blessed as their birthright, -- here she laughs
And has her pride, my country.

Every youth
That cherishes a masterful design,
And every girl that blossoms to a home
In all these borders, forms a sovereign state
Confederate of my country. Not a fire
Burning upon a pure and happy hearth
But shakes her banner forth. Where true men fare
Brave and contented to their daily toil,
There march her armies. Where the favored ship
Bears such a true man to a foreign shore,
My country goes abroad. Whene'er a home
In all her wide estate is magnified
By the sweet baby-promise of a man,
My country is enlarged; and where two friends,
Drawn close to one another by the ties
Of love and helpfulness, strike hand with hand,
My country gains a strength; yes, whensoe'er
The lonely heart most humble of them all
Achieves the smallest deed of kindliness,
My country wins a grace.

There is a bond
Encircling us that know a common sun;
It is my country's arm. There is a light
Flashed on a face when freedom's name is heard;
That light was born within my country's eyes.
And there are sacred thoughts of God and man,
Of reverence and justice, pulsing far
Upon our mountains and along our plains;
And where they run, there flows my country's blood.

Oh, may it flow forever free from taint!
And when the silent envoy calls us home
From this our beauteous exile, and we go
To find a better country in the skies,
By all good tokens may we know it ours! --
Discerning in the face of that fair land
The power and beauty we would fain have bound
Upon the wrists and sweet, beloved brow
Of this, our earthly country.

For in dreams, --
Such dreams as may be truer than our sight, --
Behold, those parted countries are but one,
Our birth-land and the land of endless years,
In earth, in heaven; as the shining clouds,
Held by a bond unseen, are ever one
With their dull shadows lying on the hills.





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