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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472594" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Pilgrim's Vision</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">IN the hour of twilight shadows<br>The Pilgrim sire looked out;<br>He thought of the 'bloudy Salvages'<br>That lurked all round about,<br>Of Wituwamet's pictured knife<br>And Pecksuot's whooping shout;<br>For the baby's limbs were feeble,<br>Though his father's arms were stout.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His home was a freezing cabin,<br>Too bare for the hungry rat;<br>Its roof was thatched with ragged grass,<br>And bald enough of that;<br>The hole that served for casement<br>Was glazed with an ancient hat,<br>And the ice was gently thawing<br>From the log whereon he sat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Along the dreary landscape<br>His eyes went to and fro,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The trees all clad in icicles,<br>The streams that did not flow;<br>A sudden thought flashed o'er him,-<br>A dream of long ago,-<br>He smote his leathern jerkin,<br>And murmured, 'Even so!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Come hither, God-be-Glorified,<br>And sit upon my knee;<br>Behold the dream unfolding,<br>Whereof I spake to thee<br>By the winter's hearth in Leyden<br>And on the stormy sea.<br>True is the dream's beginning,-<br>So may its ending be!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I saw in the naked forest<br>Our scattered remnant cast,<br>A screen of shivering branches<br>Between them and the blast;<br>The snow was falling round them,<br>The dying fell as fast;<br>I looked to see them perish,<br>When lo, the vision passed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Again mine eyes were opened;-<br>The feeble had waxed strong,<br>The babes had grown to sturdy men,<br>The remnant was a throng;<br>By shadowed lake and winding stream,<br>And all the shores along,<br>The howling demons quaked to hear<br>The Christian's godly song.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'They slept, the village fathers,<br>By river, lake, and shore,<br>When far adown the steep of Time<br>The vision rose once more<br>I saw along the winter snow<br>A spectral column pour,<br>And high above their broken ranks<br>A tattered flag they bore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Their Leader rode before them,<br>Of bearing calm and high,<br>The light of Heaven's own kindling<br>Throned in his awful eye;<br>These were a Nation's champions<br>Her dread appeal to try.<br>God for the right! I faltered,<br>And lo, the train passed by.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Once more;-the strife is ended,<br>The solemn issue tried,<br>The Lord of Hosts, his mighty arm<br>Has helped our Israel's side;<br>Gray stone and grassy hillock<br>Tell where our martyrs died,<br>But peaceful smiles the harvest,<br>And stainless flows the tide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'A crash, as when some swollen cloud<br>Cracks o'er the tangled trees<br>With side to side, and spar to spar,<br>Whose smoking decks are these?<br>I know Saint George's blood-red cross,<br>Thou Mistress of the Seas,<br>But what is she whose streaming bars<br>Roll out before the breeze?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ah, well her iron ribs are knit,<br>Whose thunders strive to quell<br>The bellowing throats, the blazing lips,<br>That pealed the Armada's knell!<br>The mist was cleared,-a wreath of stars<br>Rose o'er the crimsoned swell,<br>And, wavering from its haughty peak,<br>The cross of England fell!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O trembling Faith! though dark the morn,<br>A heavenly torch is thine;<br>While feebler races melt away,<br>And paler orbs decline,<br>Still shall the fiery pillar's ray<br>Along thy pathway shine,<br>To light the chosen tribe that sought<br>This Western Palestine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I see the living tide roll on;<br>It crowns with flaming towers<br>The icy capes of Labrador,<br>The Spaniard's 'land of flowers'!<br>It streams beyond the splintered ridge<br>That parts the northern showers;<br>From eastern rock to sunset wave<br>The Continent is ours!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He ceased, the grim old soldier-saint,<br>Then softly bent to cheer<br>The Pilgrim-child, whose wasting face<br>Was meekly turned to hear;<br>And drew his toil-worn sleeve across<br>To brush the manly tear<br>From cheeks that never changed in woe,<br>And never blanched in fear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The weary Pilgrim slumbers,<br>His resting-place unknown;<br>His hands were crossed, his lips were closed,<br>The dust was o'er him strown;<br>The drifting soil, the mouldering leaf,<br>Along the sod were blown;<br>His mound has melted into earth,<br>His memory lives alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So let it live unfading,<br>The memory of the dead,<br>Long as the pale anemone<br>Springs where their tears were shed,<br>Or, raining in the summer's wind<br>In flakes of burning red,<br>The wild rose sprinkles with its leaves<br>The turf where once they bled!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yea, when the frowning bulwarks<br>That guard this holy strand<br>Have sunk beneath the trampling surge<br>In beds of sparkling sand,<br>While in the waste of ocean<br>One hoary rock shall stand,<br>Be this its latest legend,-<br>HERE WAS THE PILGRIM'S LAND!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472594" data-title="The Pilgrim's Vision de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="IN the hour of twilight shadows
The Pilgrim sire looked out;
He thought of the 'bloudy Salvages'
That lurked all round about,
Of Wituwamet's pictured knife
And Pecksuot's whooping shout;
For the baby's limbs were feeble,
Though his father's arms w..."></div>
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