Across the land their long lines pass; More souls come to us sun by sun, Each ship a city as she rides, Than manned the march of Washington. From ancient states where burthens lie Extortionate upon the poor, Men rise like flocks from leafless woods, Then flight a shadow at our door. A shadow passing life by life Into the morrow of our race; What know we of the unseen minds? These hands have riches we embrace. What common thought so many moves? Our laws with Liberty are brave; Beneath them men will take content A wage, a lodging, and a grave. Strange to each other as to us, The races of the world are ours; No sleepless frontiers here impede A secret ballot's sacred powers. Ye patient aliens! Sifting in Where trades a fateful welcome burn, Bequeath your children what you find— A land to which all peoples turn. |