The Ship Of State - A Sentiment

This "sentiment" was read on the same occasion as the "Family Record," which immediately follows it. The latter poem is the dutiful tribute of a son to his father and his father's ancestors, residents of Woodstock from its first settlement.     The Ship of State! above her skies are blue,     But still she rocks a little, it is true,     And there are passengers whose faces white     Show they don't feel as happy as they might;     Yet on the whole her crew are quite content,     Since its wild fury the typhoon has spent,     And willing, if her pilot thinks it best,     To head a little nearer south by west.     And this they feel: the ship came too near wreck,     In the long quarrel for the quarter-deck,     Now when she glides serenely on her way, -     The shallows past where dread explosives lay, -     The stiff obstructive's churlish game to try     Let sleeping dogs and still torpedoes lie!     And so I give you all the Ship of State;     Freedom's last venture is her priceless freight;     God speed her, keep her, bless her, while she steers     Amid the breakers of unsounded years;     Lead her through danger's paths with even keel,     And guide the honest hand that holds her wheel!     WOODSTOCK, CONN., July 4, 1877.