THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.

693

For honor, degradation was his meed;

For gratitude, chains bound him, and his need Gaunt poverty replenished; for a world,

A prison his reward: and when unfurled Spain’s banner, and the king the land possessed, Another’s name Columbo’s right confessed.

Almost forgotten, then, he died; and now,

Four centuries scarce remembered, come to bow Before his fame, as they of ancient days The old and new world’s gathered nations. Praise And justice here we offer him; but wait,

Give justice it is said! nay, ’tis too late;

No justice now, but tardy honor pay To him who over ocean led the way.

The scene is changed. In swift review years pass, And many names mar history’s page—alas!

For Cortez false, and Montezuma true,

Pizarro, and unfortunate Peru.

But haste away from pictures grim, and dwell On things more pleasant far to hear and tell.

A rugged coast; a wintry wind that blows A good ship onward; while each wave that rose Around her gave but impulse toward the shore, Sought by these troubled hearts, to leave no more This haven blest, where with untrammeled zeal To worship God in freedom, and for weal Or woe, as He in whom they trust might give,

A sturdy pilgrim band they hoped to live.

Full soon contentment reigned o’er all the land, When once more on them fell oppression’s hand. Again the mighty sword must arbitrate.

So seven long dreary years throughout the state War’s tumult stalked. But peace at length returned, And joined in league with liberty; they earned By thrift prosperity and wealth, until The land too strait became; so, over hill And vale and prairies wild far west they went, Through strange vicissitudes and trials, sent To prove them stanch and with all worthy traits Of worthy sons of the United States.

Again the changing ages shift the scene Where circling horizon sky and earth between Surrounds the barren waste; a little band Of hardy and adventurous spirits stand,

Resolved to conquer in life’s battle stress—

Upbuild a state—transform the wilderness,

Make deserts blossom as the rose beside A great metropolis, its people’s pride:

So from the shore of Michigan’s blue water Chicago grew, our greatest, youngest daughter!

Most fitting that the latest born of all The cities vast of this wide land should call A universal celebration due That glorious day of fourteen ninety-two.