II.

Thou who didst dare th’ unknown, precarious sea,

And down the unbounded winds adventurous roam,

Searching the world's horizons for a home,

A haven for the heart of liberty:—

Boaster of freedom, found no longer free,

What vaporous phantom from time's ocean-foam

Blurs the translucence of th’ eternal dome

Where sang the burning stars that beckoned thee?

Thy heart hath caught the siren's doom-sweet cries,

And sips oblivion at fond Circe's nod.

Oh! for a seer whose soul is lightning-shod,

To stand imperial‘ gainst th’ impervious skies,

As Lincoln stood, with brave heaven-gazing eyes,

To appeal from guile's impermanence to God!