Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/66

Rh

have a goodly clime, Broad vales and streams we boast, Our mountain frontiers frown sublime, Old Ocean guards our coast; Suns bless our harvest fair, With fervid smile serene, But a dark shade is gathering there— What can its blackness mean?

We have a birth-right proud, For our young sons to claim, An eagle soaring o'er the cloud, In freedom and in fame; We have a scutcheon bright, By our dead fathers bought, A fearful blot distains its white— Who hath such evil wrought?

Our banner o'er the sea Looks forth with starry eye, Emblazoned glorious, bold and free, A letter on the sky,