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Rh Welcome the rich borders of rivers, table-lands,
 * openings,

Welcome the measureless grazing lands—welcome
 * the teeming soil of orchards, flax, honey, hemp,

Welcome just as much the other more hard-faced
 * lands,

Lands rich as lands of gold, or wheat and fruit lands, Lands of mines, lands of the manly and rugged ores, Lands of coal, copper, lead, tin, zinc, ! lands of the make of the axe!

The log at the wood-pile, the axe supported by it, The sylvan hut, the vine over the doorway, the space
 * cleared for a garden,

The irregular tapping of rain down on the leaves,
 * after the storm is lulled,

The wailing and moaning at intervals, the thought of
 * the sea,

The thought of ships struck in the storm, and put on
 * their beam-ends, and the cutting away of masts;

The sentiment of the huge timbers of old-fashioned
 * houses and barns;

The remembered print or narrative, the voyage at a
 * venture of men, families, goods,

The disembarkation, the founding of a new city, The voyage of those who sought a New England and
 * found it—the outset anywhere,

The settlements of the Arkansas, Colorado, Ottawa,
 * Willamette,

The slow progress, the scant fare, the axe, rifle,
 * saddle-bags;

The beauty of all adventurous and daring persons, The beauty of wood-boys and wood-men, with their
 * clear untrimmed faces,