“Hail To The Chief!”

(William McKinley.)

Niagara-like the welcome which awaits The Nation’s Chief, approaching now our gates; From depths sincere the People’s joy shall pour Like many waters thundering on the shore, As to her heart her honored Guest she takes,— The Town we love,—the Empress of the Lakes! Nor ours alone the President to greet;— The North, the South, the East, the West, here meet,— Each Commonwealth contributing its share Of honor due, beneath one banner fair:— Brothers forevermore, from sea to sea,— One country dear, one hope, one destiny! Nor even here shall the wide welcome end;— Beyond our bounds its ardour shall extend; For neighboring Nations, each American, Admire with us the President, the man! And, sharing with delight the common feast, Shall feel anew their noblest aims increased.

City of Light! Crown-jewel of our fame! Throw wide your gates to him of blameless name;— With peerless pageant swell the rising tide Of grateful joy and patriotic pride. Rehearse the thrilling history once more:— Manila’s bay and Santiago’s shore! Let glowing dome and pennoned turret tell, To God’s sole praise, the matchless miracle. Nor fail to voice the Present’s mighty plan, And justify the name American! Saxon, or Latin-born,—we’re all one blood:— The Exposition stands for brotherhood.

So may the morrow dawn,—so pass away, In cheer prophetic of our widening sway;— And when the evening’s deepening shadows fall, And heaven’s sweet silence broodeth over all, May the blest memories of the day be blent In that fair Vision in mid-firmament, The Tower of Light! Niagara’s flood in flame! The radiant symbol of our Future’s fame:— Pledge of an age whose light shall never cease,— The boundless empire of the Prince of Peace!

The above lines were written September 3, 1901, and printed the following afternoon in the Buffalo Commercial, an hour or two before President McKinley’s arrival in the city the evening before “President’s Day” at the Pan-American Exposition.

B. C.

CUBA LIBRE.

(Tune: Maryland, My Maryland.)

The work is wrought; the cannon’s roar On sea or land is heard no more; The battle’s rage and tumult cease In songs of victory and peace. The Heaven-appointed task is done; The cause for which we fought is won; And Cuba Libre, fairest gem, Is set in Freedom’s diadem!

Havana’s waters, blue and broad, Reflect the righteousness of God; And Santiago’s wreck-strewn shore Resounds His praise for evermore. The islands of the sea rejoice; The floods lift up their mighty voice; From shore to shore the anthems rise,— A nation’s grateful sacrifice.

Long as the stars shall shine o’erhead, In deathless fame shall live the dead; Their country’s glory and renown Their fadeless, everlasting crown. The morning breaks! the shadows flee! Christ’s kingdom comes on land and sea:— The rule of love, the reign of good,— The whole round world one brotherhood!

THE GREATER REPUBLIC.

Our destiny was cast in an imperial mold,— Our mission drawn on an immenser plan Than marked, in deathless lines, our sires’ high faith of old,— Earth’s broadest-visioned prophecy of man.

From ancient feuds removed, and favoring seas between, In isolation enviable, supreme, We dwelt apart content,—self-center’d and serene,— The Old World’s wonder and the Ages’ dream.

When suddenly a cry from out the surging deep We fondly deemed the guardian of our peace:— A wail of anguish sore from breaking hearts that weep Sweet Freedom’s doom and savage Wrong’s release.

Deep calling unto deep! the Island’s bitter cry Awakes the Continent to sleep no more:— Heart ever answers heart:—America’s reply Is Santiago’s world-resounding shore.

Nor here, alone, the Hand mysterious and divine;— Manila’s equal miracle foreshowed The Providential path, with yet unsealèd sign, Where first our arms to scathless triumph rode.

True to the unsought task we could not comprehend,— By foes maligned, by friends misunderstood, This faith sustained us still, to the appointed end:— Heaven serves the Sword unsheath’d for human good.

Clear, now, the purpose of the Highest,—plain His plan:— To mould the Nation after His own mind, And give, in common emprise with the Son of Man, The moral leadership of all mankind.

EMERSON.

Bard of the soaring soul, Of thought sublime, serene,— Lord of the Pleiades And all the stars between!

And further still thy sway:— Thy realm, that vaster deep Where galaxies unseen Their radiant courses keep.

With measure masterful Thou raisest our desire, Till to thy boldest flight Our eager souls aspire.

But not alone thy thought In star-sprent spaces strown; Thy largess manifold Hath nearer harvests sown.

Ah! yes;—a richer crop We gather, in thy song, Than ever homeward brought The Wain with “oxen strong.”

The Snow Storm, and Wood Notes, Forerunners, and May-Days, To the dear earth belong, And grace our lowliest ways.

Concord, and Boston “Hymn,”— They stir our pulses still, And hold, for Freedom’s need, The patriot heart and will.

The Problem,—Each and All, Thy kind theology! And like the Lord Christ’s heart, Thy sweet Apology.

The Dirge,—the Threnody, Our tenderest tears unseal;— We know their loneliness, And all their sorrow feel.

To Virtue’s holiest heights Leads, still, thy dauntless strain, And on our follies falls “Its beautiful disdain.”

Between Rhodora’s bloom And Merlin’s mighty rhyme, Our largest thoughts find room, O World-Soul seer sublime!

But little need hast thou Of tribute we may bring;— Thy fame hath Eastertide With each returning Spring.

The centuries shall guard The glory of thy verse, And worthier song than ours Its golden notes rehearse.

Thou buildest thy renown With ageless masonry:— Monadnock’s granite walls Thy monument shall be!

DANIEL WEBSTER.

The grandeur of the mountains Is in his deep tones heard;— Atlantic’s mighty fountains Inundate every word.

Torrential thought and feeling In tides of passion pour,— To patriot hearts appealing, As sea to storm-swept shore.

Columbia’s star-crown’d daughters Own his majestic will;— Like voice of many waters, His name is potent still.

In loftiest communion With seer and sage of yore, For Liberty and Union He pleads for evermore!

LINCOLN.

Like monarch of the forest He looms out of the Past:— Our strength when need was sorest,— Our pride while Time shall last.

To God, the gracious Giver, All praise and glory be, While flows each free-born river Unfettered to the sea.

AGASSIZ—EMERSON.

Far different the task assigned, Yet were they one in loftiest aim; True mirror, each, of the Eternal Mind, They share a common fadeless fame.

One Will they owned, with rapturous awe, One sway supreme from man to Mars,— Chanting the chorus of the moral law With Seraphim and Morning Stars!