I am the drawn sword barring the lanes thy mutinous feet Vainly covet for greenness. Loitering pace or fleet, Thine is the crag-path chosen. On the c… - Katharine Lee Bates

I am the cry of the night wind, startling thy traitorous sleep; Moaning I echo thy music, and e"en while thou boastest to reap Alien harvests, my anger resounds from the vehement deep.

By the promise of noon"s blue splendor in the dawn"s first silvery gleam, By the song of the sea that compelleth the path of the rockcleaving stream, I summon thee, recreant dreamer, to rise and follow thy dream.

Greetings to thee, ancient bell Of our Falmouth by the sea! Answered by the ocean swell, Ring thy centuried Jubilee! Like the white sails of the Sound, Hast thou seen the years drift by, From the dreamful, dim profound To a goal beyond the eye.