Your course securely steer,
West and by South forth keep;
Rocks, lee shores nor shoals,
Where Eolus scowls,
You need not fear,
So absolute the deep.
And cheerfully at sea
Success you still entice,
To get the pearl and gold,
And ours to hold
VIRGINIA,
Earth's only paradise! . . .
And in regions far
Such heroes bring ye forth
As those from whom we came;
And plant our name
Under that star
Not known unto our north.
See the parting upon Thames's side, Englishmen going, English kindred,
friends, and neighbors calling farewell, waving hat and scarf, standing
bare-headed in the gray winter weather! To Virginia--they are going to
Virginia! The sails are made upon the Susan Constant, the Goodspeed, and
the Discovery. The last wherry carries aboard the last adventurer. The
anchors are weighed. Down the river the wind bears the ships toward the
sea. Weather turning against them, they taste long delay in the Downs, but
at last are forth upon the Atlantic. Hourly the distance grows between
London town and the outgoing folk, between English shores. and where the
surf breaks on the pale Virginian beaches. Far away--far away and long
ago--yet the unseen, actual cables hold, and yesterday and today stand
embraced, the lips of the Thames meet the lips of the James, and the breath
of England mingles with the breath of America.
CHAPTER II. THE ADVENTURERS
What was this Virginia to which they were bound? In the sixteenth and early
seventeenth centuries the name stood for a huge stretch of littoral,
running southward from lands of long winters and fur-bearing animals to
lands of the canebrake, the fig, the magnolia, the chameleon, and the
mockingbird.
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