I look across the ocean, And kneel upon the shore, I look out seaward—westward, My heart swells more and more.
I see the great new nation, New spirit and new scope Rise there from the sea’s round shoulder— A splendid sun of hope!
I see it and I tremble— My voice is full of tears— America tread softly, You bear the fruit of years.
Tread softly—you are pregnant And growing near your time—