The Mayflowers

Sad Mayflower! watched by winter stars,     And nursed by winter gales,     With petals of the sleeted spars,     And leaves of frozen sails     What had she in those dreary hours,     Within her ice-rimmed bay,     In common with the wild-wood flowers,     The first sweet smiles of May?     Yet, God be praised! the Pilgrim said,     Who saw the blossoms peer     Above the brown leaves, dry anal dead     Behold our Mayflower here!     God wills it: here our rest shall be     Our years of wandering oer;     For us the Mayflower of the sea,     Shall spread her sails no more.     O sacred flowers of faith and hope,     As sweetly now as then     Ye bloom on many a birchen slope,     In many a pine-dark glen.     Behind the sea-walls rugged length,     Unchanged, your, leaves unfold     Like love behind the manly strength     Of the brave hearts of old.     So live the fathers in their sons,     Their sturdy faith be ours,     And ours the love that overruns     Its rocky strength with flowers.     The Pilgrims wild and wintry day     Its shadow round us draws;     The Mayflower of his stormy bay,     Our Freedoms struggling cause.     But warmer suns ere long shall bring     To life the frozen sod;     And, through dead leaves of hope, shall spring     Afresh the flowers of God!