The Landing Of The Pilgrims
Poem By Felicia Dorothea Hemans (1826)
The breaking waves dashed high on a stern and rock-bound
coast, and the woods against a stormy sky, their giant branches
tossed. And the heavy night hung dark, the hills and waters over,
when a band of exiles moored their bark on the wild New England shore.
Not as the conqueror comes, they the true-hearted came. Nor with
the roll of stirring drums and the trumpet that sings of fame.
Not as the flying come, in silence and in fear. They shook the
depths of the desert's gloom with their hymns of lofty cheer.
Amidst the storm they sang, and the stars heard and the sea, and the
sounding aisles of the dim woods rang to the anthem of the free!
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Recited By Grant Raymond Barrett.
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