Hold the high sway of one short hour—
And wan fates weave their threads and keep
The annals of the years that sleep,
Sorrow and joy in one web wove.
And wan fates weave their threads and keep
The annals of the years that sleep,
Sorrow and joy in one web wove.
Honor to thee, O civic queen,
Throned in a plumy storm of green,
A lifted lustre, starry white!
Honor and wealth! And on thy brow
Blossom the wreath of virtue's vow—
The fields give tribute, and the gales
Waft thee tall ships and costly bales
Till high Hood flame a last good-night!
Throned in a plumy storm of green,
A lifted lustre, starry white!
Honor and wealth! And on thy brow
Blossom the wreath of virtue's vow—
The fields give tribute, and the gales
Waft thee tall ships and costly bales
Till high Hood flame a last good-night!
LAUNCHING OF THE BATTLESHIP OREGON
O ship, like crested Pallas armed,
O bride the hoary god hath charmed,
Leap to his proud and strong embrace,
In Freedom's squadron take thy place!
O bride the hoary god hath charmed,
Leap to his proud and strong embrace,
In Freedom's squadron take thy place!
Northward, in sheen of crystal mail,
A scarf of cloud upon his breast,
Our mountain monarch, Hood, will hail
The mighty daughter of the West;
And hail with broad, uplifted shield,
The sea, thy home and battle-field,
While the vast hosts of phalanxed firs
Swell the deep song of worshippers.
A scarf of cloud upon his breast,
Our mountain monarch, Hood, will hail
The mighty daughter of the West;
And hail with broad, uplifted shield,
The sea, thy home and battle-field,
While the vast hosts of phalanxed firs
Swell the deep song of worshippers.
