WILD was the day; the wintry sea Moaned sadly on New-England's strand, When first, the thoughtful and the free, Our fathers, trod the desert land. They little thought how pure a light, With years, should gather round that day; How love should keep their memories bright, How wide a realm their sons should sway. Green are their bays; but greener still Shall round their spreading fame be wreathed, And regions, now untrod, shall thrill With reverence, when their names are breathed. Till where the sun, with softer fires, Looks on the vast Pacific's sleep, The children of the pilgrim sires This hallowed day like us shall keep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEFORE THE BIRTH OF ONE OF HER CHILDREN by ANNE BRADSTREET DREAM SONG: 2 by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE ROMAN ROAD by THOMAS HARDY THE SOWER AND HIS SEED by WILLIAM EDWARD HARTPOLE LECKY THE GOLDEN AGE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN FALLING STARS by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER CROMWELL'S SOLILOQUY OVER THE DEAD BODY OF CHARLES by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON |