I.

Not, in my transient thought,
The world beyond the seas,
Nor " Ind " that, westward, sought
The daring Genoese;

II.

Old World, where we were young,
Aye, and, in spirit, born,
(Not then, thy harp unstrung,
Nor yet, thy creeds outworn);

III.

World of the past: — our Sires
Who stormy ocean crossed
To light new household fires,
Thee, neither left, nor lost;

IV.

High birthright: — Ours, this great,
Fair land, and seat of might,
By birth alone, and fate,
But thou, by older right;

V.

Our child-world, full of joy
In fear, and fearful deeds,
And faith, without alloy,
In wonder's infant creeds;

VI.

World, where, in youth, before
We knew how great and fair,
We dwelt, and in its lore
First breathed immortal air;

VII.

Large world, and unconfined
To classic shores and skies,
Dominion of the Mind,
Realm without boundaries;

VIII.

Each freeborn soul on earth,
Thou grander Rome, in thee,
Wherever casual birth,
Can claim nativity.

IX.

What walls thy State confine?
The story of what land
That is not part of thine,
Or written on the sand? —

X.

As " men articulate "
Have left us, with their bones,
Their story (haply great)
Silent, on Aztec stones.

XI.

Theirs, the old world called New,
But thine, the mighty past,
And memories that in view
Stand evermore, and cast

XII.

Upon the earth the grand,
Unmoving form, sublime,
Of a conjectured Hand,
A shadow thrown on time,

XIII.

To disappear, at last,
When time itself shall be
A shadow of the past
Thrown on eternity.