The Gold-Gated West/Launching of the Battleship Oregon
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.
Hood's brow of prescience, wreathed with dreams,
The mist through which his grandeur gleams
In storm and calm, has brooded o'er
The hardy few that erstwhile came
And wrought in tears, and blood and flame,
That stripes might stream and stars might soar,
And lustrous shine thy chosen name.
The mist through which his grandeur gleams
In storm and calm, has brooded o'er
The hardy few that erstwhile came
And wrought in tears, and blood and flame,
That stripes might stream and stars might soar,
And lustrous shine thy chosen name.
Launched on the golden-gated bay,
Be thine a royal bridal day;
And with the waves' exultant kiss
Come dreams of olden Salamis,
When Greece was life's white morning star;—
Come, welcome to a scene like this,
The memories of Trafalgar,
And Erie's crash of thunder, telling
How Perry's warrior heart was swelling;—
Come, through the sombre dusk of years,
Decatur's drum-beat in Algiers,
Come, echoing from a frosting lip,
That whisper, "Don't give up the ship!"
Be thine a royal bridal day;
And with the waves' exultant kiss
Come dreams of olden Salamis,
When Greece was life's white morning star;—
Come, welcome to a scene like this,
The memories of Trafalgar,
And Erie's crash of thunder, telling
How Perry's warrior heart was swelling;—
Come, through the sombre dusk of years,
Decatur's drum-beat in Algiers,
Come, echoing from a frosting lip,
That whisper, "Don't give up the ship!"
To greet thy nuptials here behold,
While o'er enchanted streams and woods
October's misty splendor broods,
Our forests lit with lamps of gold,
And many a leafy mountain shrine,
Dashed with the red autumnal wine,
For thee a symbol and a sign
Of fates serene and trust untold.
While o'er enchanted streams and woods
October's misty splendor broods,
Our forests lit with lamps of gold,
And many a leafy mountain shrine,
Dashed with the red autumnal wine,
For thee a symbol and a sign
Of fates serene and trust untold.
O, swift and strong and terrible,
Go forth to guard our cherished shore
Till all thy fated days are full
And War's hoarse call is heard no more!
Go forth, O warder of the free,
And peerless may thy vigil be,
Till cape and bay and cliff and crag
Flash with the glory of the flag
Triumphant yet on land and sea!
And O, guard well the gleaming strand
Of this, our fair Arcadian land,
Won in the storms of years gone by,
With drain of heart and wound of hand,
When man could dare, and do, and die!
Go forth to guard our cherished shore
Till all thy fated days are full
And War's hoarse call is heard no more!
Go forth, O warder of the free,
And peerless may thy vigil be,
Till cape and bay and cliff and crag
Flash with the glory of the flag
Triumphant yet on land and sea!
And O, guard well the gleaming strand
Of this, our fair Arcadian land,
Won in the storms of years gone by,
With drain of heart and wound of hand,
When man could dare, and do, and die!
Be worthy of the mystic name
These matchless vales and mountains bear;
That in the tents of sunset Fame
May twine a wreath for thee to wear.
And when thy flag shall kiss the breeze
Of these, our blue northwestern seas,
Lo, white and strange and soaring high
In the vast temples of the sky,
The peaks our lisping children know
A welcoming to thee will glow!
These matchless vales and mountains bear;
That in the tents of sunset Fame
May twine a wreath for thee to wear.
And when thy flag shall kiss the breeze
Of these, our blue northwestern seas,
Lo, white and strange and soaring high
In the vast temples of the sky,
The peaks our lisping children know
A welcoming to thee will glow!
Helen's to Hood will pass the sign,
And Jefferson, with brow benign,
Will signal to the Sisters Three
That the long watch was not in vain;
For lo, upon the radiant main
The mailed patrol of liberty!
Here, at the mighty ocean gate,
Columbia, in his pride, will greet
The Boadicea of our fleet;
And from embattled heights the voice
Of cannon make the deep rejoice,
And festal sunshine gleam upon
The green, glad hills of Oregon,
Thine and our own deep-bosomed State.
And Jefferson, with brow benign,
Will signal to the Sisters Three
That the long watch was not in vain;
For lo, upon the radiant main
The mailed patrol of liberty!
Here, at the mighty ocean gate,
Columbia, in his pride, will greet
The Boadicea of our fleet;
And from embattled heights the voice
Of cannon make the deep rejoice,
And festal sunshine gleam upon
The green, glad hills of Oregon,
Thine and our own deep-bosomed State.