Not with the roll of the stirring drums,

They, the true-hearted, came;

On a stern and rock-bound coast,

And the stars heard and the sea;

And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang

And the woods, against a stormy sky,

The soil wher九*九*藏*书*网e first they trod!

In silence and in fear, -

Not as the flying come,

Not as the conqueror comes,

The breaking waves dashed九九藏书 high

There was manhoods brow serenely high,

They shook the depths of the deserts gloom

There were men with hoary hair

To the anthem of the free.

When a band of exiles moored their bark

And the rocking pines of the forest roared九-九-藏-书-网 -

The wealth of the seas? the spoils of war? -

From his nest by the white waves foam,

With their hymns of lofty cheer.

And the fiery heart of youth.

On the wild New England shore.

Lit by her deep loves truth;

Ay, call it holy ground,

They have left unstained what there they found -

Away from their childhoods land?

They sought a faiths pure shrine!

What sought they thus afar?

Their giant branches tost;

The ocean-eagle soared

And the trumpet that sings of fame;

And the 九*九*藏*书*网heavy night hung dark

Amidst that pilgrim band:

There was womans fearless eye,

Amidst the storm they sang,

Why had they come to wither there,

Freedom to worship God!

This was their welcome home!

Bright jewels of the mine?

The hills and water oer,