University of Virginia Library


717

THE NORTH-EAST WIND.

Howl, fierce North-Easter, howl, and fiercer blow;
That art our roaming spirit's equal mate,
To keep the haughty spoiler from the gate,
And bid our sturdy nature stronger grow;
Still raise the stormy waves, that round us flow
In dreadful walls and fence us out from fate,
And make the heart of fire within us glow
Imperial yet, thou bulwark of the State.
It is the iron of thy bitter cold,
Wrought in the fibre of our English tree,
And our unconquered bosom comes from thee;
Yea, thus we walk the earth erect and bold,
Build up this grandeur not by craft or gold,
And with thy boundless breath wax fair and free.