ANNISQUAM

Old days, old ways, old homes beside the sea;

Old gardens with old-fashioned flowers aflame,

Poppy, petunia, and many a name

Of many a flower of fragrant pedigree.

Old hills that glow with blue - and barberry,

And rocks and pines that stand on guard, the same.

Immutable, as when the Pilgrim came,

And here laid firm foundations of the Free.

The sunlight makes the dim dunes hills of snow,

And every vessel's sail a twinkling wing

Glancing the violet ocean far away:

The world is full of color and of glow;

A mighty canvas whereon God doth fling

The flawless picture of a perfect day.