OUT of the murk of heaviest clouds,Out of the feudal wrecks and heap'd-up skeletons of kings,Out of that old entire European debris, the shatter'd mummeries,Ruin'd cathedrals, crumble of palaces, tombs of priests,Lo, Freedom's features fresh undimm'd look forth—the same immortal face looks forth;(A glimpse as of thy Mother's face Columbia,A flash significant as of a sword,Beaming towards thee.)
[ begin page 366 ]ppp.00707.374.jpgNor think we forget thee maternal;Lag'd'st thou so long? shall the clouds close again upon thee?Ah, but thou hast thyself now appear'd to us—we know thee,Thou hast given us a sure proof, the glimpse of thyself,Thou waitest there as everywhere thy time.