138 New York at the Woeld's Columbian Exposition. 



We come on a tide of love and pride 

 To kiss thy foam- white hands. 



The sheen of thy lakes in silver breaks 



Thy girdle of cornland gold, 

 And their waters swoon in the cool lagoon 



Thy glory to behold. 



Now slow, now fleet, thy waters sweet 



Thou sendest down to sea. 

 Our love flies back by a straighter track, 



And sweet as thy waters be. 



Oh, sister white, in the autumn light 



The East salutes the West, 

 And may ever so, transfigured, glow. 



The sisters, breast to breast. 



IV. 



Nor alone do we stand in thy temple ground, 

 For sisters and sisters are gathering round 

 From the garlanded maid by the Golden Gate 

 To the Creole Queen do we joyously wait — 

 A throng of the cities encircling thy throne. 

 With the horns of our gladness stormily blown, 

 And chords from our harps thrilling clear between, 

 In the praise of our glad-hearted Prairie Queen ; 

 But louder than rise the brave harmonies free^ 

 There springs from our lips like the voice of the sea 

 When smiting of wind rolls in thunder its waters. 

 The song to our mother, the song of her daughters — 

 Song such as never was sung to another, 

 The chant of our glory, the praise of our mother, 

 Mother America! 



V. 



Mightiest type of the human, 



Giant-limbed mother of men, 

 Broad-breasted mother of woman; 



Whose millions are sixty and ten: 



Mother majestic and splendid. 

 Mother of glories and joys, 



