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From native shore by tempest driven, 



They sought a purer sky, 

 And found, beneath a milder heaven, 



The home of Liberty ! 

 An altar rose, — and prayers ; — a ray 



Broke on their night of woe, 

 The harbinger of Freedom's day. 



Two hundred years ago ! 



They clung around that symbol, too. 



Their refuge and their all, 

 And swore while skies and waves were blue, 



That altar should not fall. 

 They stood upon the red man's sod, 



'Neath heaven's unpillared bow. 

 With home, a country and a God, 



Two hundred years ago ! 



Oh ! 'twas a hard, unyielding fate 



That drove them to the seas, 

 And Persecution strove with Hate, 



To darken her decrees ; 

 But safe above each coral grave 



Each looming ship did go ; — 

 And God was on the western wave. 



Two hundred years ago ! 



They knelt them on the desert sand. 



By waters cold and rude. 

 Alone upon the dreary strand 



Of oceaned solitude ! 

 They looked upon the high blue air 



And felt their spirits glow. 

 Resolved to live or perish there, 



Two hundred years ago ! 



The warrior's red right arm was bared, 

 His eyes flashed deep and wild ; — 



Was there a foreign footstep dared 

 To seek his home and child ? 



