Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/194

180 From rich sea-islands fringing her green shore, From broad plantations where swart freemen bend Bronzed backs in willing labor, from her store Of golden fruit, from stream, from town, ascend Life-currents of pure health : Her aims shall be subserved with boundless wealth. Yet now how listless and how still she lies, Like some half-savage, dusky Indian queen, Rocked in her hammock neath her native skies, With the pathetic, passive, broken mien Of one who, sorely proved, Great-souled, hath suffered much and much hath loved! But look! along the wide-branched, dewy glade Glimmers the dawn : the light palmetto-trees And cypresses reissue from the shade, And she hath wakened. Through clear air she sees The pledge, the brightening ray, And leaps from dreams to hail the coming day.