The Poetry Corner

From East To West.

By Susan Coolidge (Sarah Chauncey Woolsey)

The boat cast loose her moorings; "Good-by" was all we said. "Good-by, Old World," we said with a smile, And never looked back as we sped, A shining wake of foam behind, To the heart of the sunset red. Heavily drove our plunging keel The warring waves between; Heavily strove we night and day, Against the west-wind keen, Bent, like a foe, to bar our path,-- A foe with an awful mien. Never a token met our eyes From the dear land far away; No storm-swept bird, no drifting branch, To tell us where it lay. Wearily searched we, hour by hour, Through the mist and the driving spray, Till, all in a flashing moment, The fog-veils rent and flew, And a blithesome south-wind caught the sails And whistled the cordage through, And the stars swung low their silver lamps In a dome of airy blue, And, breathed from unseen distances, A new and joyous air Caressed our senses suddenly With a rapture fresh and rare. "It is the breath of home!" we cried; "We feel that we are there." O Land whose tent-roof is the dome Of Heaven's, purest sky, Whose mighty heart inspires the wind Of glad, strong liberty, Standing upon thy sunset shore, Beside the waters high, Long may thy rosy smile be bright; Above the ocean din Thy young, undaunted voice be heard, Calling the whole world kin; And ever be thy arms held out To take the storm-tossed in!