XXXV.

But thou, my country, thou shalt never fall,

Save with thy children--thy maternal care,

Thy lavish love, thy blessings showered on all--

These are thy fetters--seas and stormy air

Are the wide barrier of thy borders, where,

Among thy gallant sons that guard thee well,

Thou laugh'st at enemies: who shall then declare

The date of thy deep-founded strength, or tell

How happy, in thy lap, the sons of men shall dwell.

Poems by William Cullen Bryant · 第 48 / 247 题