There—­Lakes—­supplied by endless hills of snow—­
There—­Mexico—­the gulf of placid flow—­
There—­wide Atlantic—­blue as Beauty’s eyes—­
There—­far Pacific—­vast as are the skies—­
Each whitened by quick-passing, shifting sails,
Conspire to make me rich—­till Carthage fails
To show a record of more wealth and power,
Even where the farthest isles became her dower. 
  And yon dusk hill[D], amid the moon’s pale light,
In nation’s eyes, shall soar a prouder height—­
Till from each shore where man has learned to dwell—­
The eyes shall strain, and feel the mighty spell—­
For there repose the bones of Washington—­
Upon that hill—­earth’s noblest, earthly one.

But this Columbia’s fairest praise shall be,
Her Sons shall kneel beneath their chosen tree—­
At prayer—­as fades the daylight into even—­
And, lift—­unblamed—­their hearts to smiling Heaven.

Here Learning, too, shall rear unnumbered domes,
Here Shakspeares—­Tassos—­find more happy homes,
Here Homer’s fire, and Virgil’s polished grace,
A sacred charm shall give to many a place. 
Each shady hill shall be a Muse’s haunt—­
By each pure spring aerial nymphs shall chant—­
Chant the sweet song to heavenly Liberty—­
While thundering cataracts peal it to the sea!”
She spake no more;—­or I too much opprest
By wondrous visions, needed welcome rest. 
And when I waked, the day had now unfurled
His rosy banners o’er the laughing world,
And while the glorious prospect charmed my view,
I felt Columbia’s prophecy was true.

[Footnote C:  The National Capital at Washington.]

[Footnote D:  The Tomb of Washington, at Mount Vernon.]

LOVE.

Of woman was I born, and man I am.  I come to teach the greatest, yet the most meek Of all true lessons which man e’er can learn—­ God’s man was made to love, and nought to hate, Except the Ill which God and angels hate. Oh! this grand lore hath fallen on my heart Like smiling sunlight on a gloomy ocean.  Oft have I heard and felt great throbs of love Vibrating through the universe of worlds, Through every grain of matter, through the hearts That live and swarm beneath the eye of God.  Oft standing mid the holy calm of night, The surf of love came rolling on my soul From off the farthest verge of God’s great realms,
As rolls the surf of ocean on a beach,
For ever and for ever, and for ever. 
Love was the Cause of all things, and the End;
For God is Love and ever will be Love: 
And those who feel most love are most like God—­
As seraphs, cherubs, saints and righteous men;
And those who feel least love, are least like God,
As Satan, Moloch, Belial, and bad men.