 | [A Vision about New Hampshire, in] Second festival of the sons of New Hampshire, celebrated in Boston, November 2, 1953 |  |
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A Vision about New Hampshire.
'Twas on a time—no matter when—
I hate all stiff precision—
There came across my dreaming ken
A very truthful vision.
I hate all stiff precision—
There came across my dreaming ken
A very truthful vision.
And this the rhymer's art confest—
A great one he esteems it—
A thought is ripe to be expressed—
He goes straightway and dreams it.
A great one he esteems it—
A thought is ripe to be expressed—
He goes straightway and dreams it.
And I, like Job, upon my bed,
With midnight fancies teeming,
Had crotchets dancing through my head,
That wove themselves in dreaming.
With midnight fancies teeming,
Had crotchets dancing through my head,
That wove themselves in dreaming.
I saw enthroned in matron guise,
Our mother State, God bless her,
And beamed within her gentle eyes
The love that did possess her.
Our mother State, God bless her,
And beamed within her gentle eyes
The love that did possess her.
A smile played kindly round her mouth,
And spread her features over;
Her breath was sweet as breezes south
That waft o'er fields of clover.
And spread her features over;
Her breath was sweet as breezes south
That waft o'er fields of clover.
She sat upon a “gentle rise”—
Mount Washington, it may be—
A seat a stately dame might prize,
To tend a mighty baby.
Mount Washington, it may be—
A seat a stately dame might prize,
To tend a mighty baby.
Her feet reposed upon the plain,
Where golden flowers were shining;
Her glance embraced her broad domain,
In peace and joy reclining.
Where golden flowers were shining;
Her glance embraced her broad domain,
In peace and joy reclining.
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She called her children far and near,
And then, from many quarters,
Her guiding matron voice to hear,
Came troops of sons and daughters.
And then, from many quarters,
Her guiding matron voice to hear,
Came troops of sons and daughters.
They filled the valleys' fertile length,
They thronged the mountains hoary,
The ground shook 'neath their sturdy strength,
That told a granite story.
They thronged the mountains hoary,
The ground shook 'neath their sturdy strength,
That told a granite story.
Then rose the dame, her mighty arm
In graceful power extended:
“Children!” she spoke, and through the calm
Her gentle tones descended.
In graceful power extended:
“Children!” she spoke, and through the calm
Her gentle tones descended.
“Children, I've called you to my side,
To test your warm devotion;
To send you on a mission wide,
O'er many a land and ocean;
To test your warm devotion;
To send you on a mission wide,
O'er many a land and ocean;
To act in forum or in mart,
Where duty's voice is loudest;
mingle in life's active part
If humblest or if proudest;
Where duty's voice is loudest;
mingle in life's active part
If humblest or if proudest;
To make my name an honored word,
Where'er that word is spoken;
A guaranty wherever heard,
Of faithfulness unbroken.”
Where'er that word is spoken;
A guaranty wherever heard,
Of faithfulness unbroken.”
Thus ran the dream—'twas but a dream—
A figment all ideal—
And yet so truthful did it seem
I could but deem it real.
A figment all ideal—
And yet so truthful did it seem
I could but deem it real.
heard a sound—the nations spoke—
And, as if thunders muttered,
One voice in mighty accents broke—
'Twas Webster's name it uttered.
And, as if thunders muttered,
One voice in mighty accents broke—
'Twas Webster's name it uttered.
saw on many a battle plain
Where Freedom's star was beaming,
Mid falling showers of deadly rain,
New Hampshire's banner streaming;
Where Freedom's star was beaming,
Mid falling showers of deadly rain,
New Hampshire's banner streaming;
Where busy science tried its skill,
Where art essayed its cunning;
Where trade contrived its pouch to fill,
Where railway wheels were running;
Where art essayed its cunning;
Where trade contrived its pouch to fill,
Where railway wheels were running;
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Where poesy its numbers sung,
Where eloquence was thrilling;
Where white-winged ships like coursers sprung,
Where fertile lands were tilling;
Where eloquence was thrilling;
Where white-winged ships like coursers sprung,
Where fertile lands were tilling;
Where wealth delighted turned to flowers,
Where health dispensed its treasures;
Where love made glad domestic bowers,
The crown of all our pleasures—
Where health dispensed its treasures;
Where love made glad domestic bowers,
The crown of all our pleasures—
New Hampshire's honored name was known,
And crowned with many a token;
Her fame had like her eagles flown—
Was reverenced where'er spoken.
And crowned with many a token;
Her fame had like her eagles flown—
Was reverenced where'er spoken.
'Twas but a vision, recollect,
That came to me in dreaming;
But may not waking retrospect
Now reconcile its seeming?
That came to me in dreaming;
But may not waking retrospect
Now reconcile its seeming?
I drop the metaphor and wake—
I heed your looks imploring—
'Twere too great sacrifice to make
Your holocaust by boring!
I heed your looks imploring—
'Twere too great sacrifice to make
Your holocaust by boring!
May we around our natal State
Stand, like those ramparts Grecian,
A wall whose strength shall ne'er abate,
But stick with firm adhesion.
Stand, like those ramparts Grecian,
A wall whose strength shall ne'er abate,
But stick with firm adhesion.
Should foes around her gather thick,
Or trouble's clouds enfold her,
Each in that wall would prove a brick—
An adamantine boulder.
Or trouble's clouds enfold her,
Each in that wall would prove a brick—
An adamantine boulder.
May peace within her bosom reign—
No violence distress her;
Let every son this toast now drain,
Our mother State! God bless her!
No violence distress her;
Let every son this toast now drain,
Our mother State! God bless her!
| [A Vision about New Hampshire, in] Second festival of the sons of New Hampshire, celebrated in Boston, November 2, 1953 | |