Chapter XLVII

“Mysterious Power! who dost in wonders speak,
We note thy tokens and their import spell;
Let Persecution still its vengeance wreak--
Let its fierce billows roll with mountain swell,
Here must we Anchor, and their force repel.
Here, more securely, shall our bannered State
Blazon the conscience sacred--ever free;
Here shall she breast the coming storms of fate
And ride triumphant o’er the raging sea,
Her well-cast Anchor here, her lasting Hope in Thee!