I.
Not to the Pagan’s mount I turn,
For inspiration now;
Olympus and its gods I spurn—
Pure One, be with me, Thou!
Thou, in whose awful name,
From suffering and from shame,
Our Fathers fled, and braved a pathless sea;
Thou, in whose holy fear,
They fixed an empire here,
And gave it to their Children and to Thee.
II.
And You! ye bright ascended Dead,
Who scorned the bigot’s yoke,
Come, round this place your...
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