NEW ENGLAND.
Reading edition
New England—Daughter of the Sun— A laurel on your brow, The thrill of springtime in your heart, Yea, we are lovers now, And we shall wind a lover’s horn High on the hills of space, To echo far beyond the stars; I shall behold your face, With laughing eyes, when time is not; Your lifting vistas then, As now, will haunt and wake in me A chording great amen.