TO AMERICA by LUCILE CHANDLER

For centuries, America, you lay,
A virgin continent dreaming in the sun --
The patient ages all their labor done
Against the dawn of that predestined day
When Pilgrim Fathers were to sail away
From hostile shores -- their journeying begun
With questing hearts foretelling victories won
In some far land where they might work and pray.

At last through wintry ocean-wastes they came
And conquered, year by year, relentless foes.
Though hardships undermined the dauntless few,
They worshipped, labored, died in Freedom's name
That followers might seek the land @3they chose@1
And find a friend, America, in you.

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