Then let the sounds of measured stroke And grating saw begin-The broad axe to the gnarled oak，The mallet to the pin！
2.Hark！-roars the bellows，blast on blast，The sooty smithy jars，And fire-sparks，rising far and fast，Are fading with the stars.
3.From far-off hills the punting team For us is toiling near；For us the raftsmen down the stream Their island barges steer.
4.Up，up！in nobler toil than ours No craftsmen bear a part：
We make of Nature‘s giant powers The slaves of human art.Lay rib to rib and beam to beam，And drive the tree-nails free；Nor faithless joint nor yawning seam Shall tempt the searching sea.
Where’er her tossing spars shall drip With salt spray caught below，That ship must heed her master‘s beck，Her helm obey his hand，And seamen tread her reeling deck As if they trod the land.
6.Her oaken ribs the vulture-beakOf Northern ice may peel；The sunken rock and coral peakMay grate along her keel；And know we well the painted shell We give to wind and waveMust float，the sailor’s citadel，Or sink，the sailor‘s grave.
7.Ho！strike away the bars and blocks，And set the good ship free；Why lingers on these dusty rocks The young bride of the sea？Look ！how she moves adown the grooves How lowly on the breast she loves Sinks down her virgin prow.
8.God bless her，wheresoe’er the breeze Her snowy wing shall fan，Beside the frozen Hebrides，Or sultry Hindostan；Where‘er，in mart or on the main，With peaceful flag unfurled，She helps to wind the silken chain Of commerce round the world.
9.Speed on the ship ！but let her bear No merchandise of sin，No groaning cargo of despairHer roomy hold within；No Lethean drug for Eastern lands，Nor poison-draught for ours；But honest fruits of toiling handsAnd Nature’s sun and showers.
10.Be hers the prairie‘s golden grain，The desert’s golden sand，The clustered fruits of sunny Spain，The spice of Morning-land！
Her pathway on the open main May blessings follow free，And glad hearts welcome back again Her white sails from the sea！
1.What hidest thou in thy treasure-caves and cells，Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious main？-Pale glistening pearls，and rainbow-coloured shells，Bright things which gleam unrecked of and in vain.-Keep，keep thy riches，melancholy Sea！
2.Yet more，the depths have more！What wealth untold，Far down，and shining through their stillness，lies！
Thou hast the starry gems，the burning gold，Won from ten thousand royal argosies，-Sweep o‘er thy spoils，thou wild and wrathful main！
Earth claims not these again！
3.Yet more，the depths have more！Thy waves have rolled Above the cities of a world gone by！
Sea-weed o’ergrown the halls of revelry！-Dash o‘er them，Ocean，in thy scornful play！
Man yields them to decay！
4.Yet more，the billows and the depths have more ！
High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast！
They hear not now the booming waters roar；The battle-thunders will not break their rest！-Keep thy red gold and gems，thou stormy grave！
Give back the true and brave！
5.Give back the lost and lovely ！those for whom The place was kept at board and hearth so long，The prayer went up through midnight’s breathless gloom，And the vain yearning woke ‘midst festal song！
Hold fast thy buried isles，thy towers o’erthrown-But all is not thine own ！
6.To thee the love of woman hath gone down，Dark flow thy tides o‘er manhood’s noble head，O‘er youth’s bright locks and beauty‘s flowery crown；Yet must thou hear a voice-Restore the dead！
Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee！-Restore the dead，thou Sea！
1.Paul Revere was a rider bold-Well has his valorous deed been told；Sheridan’s ride was a glorious one-Oft it has been dwelt upon.
On which the love of a patriot feeds？Hearken to me，while I revealThe dashing ride of Jennie Macneal.