Immortal headland holding the tide at your feet,
Shattering back its wide Atlantic beat,
Threshing its might, thwarting its foam and thunder,
Your task in the world is thrillingly wild and sweet!

Hurricane-breaker, since the years began,
Haunted by gull wings and the thoughts of man,
Was it not you who pointed Columbus westward,
Who put in his heart the dream no doubt could ban?

Was it not you, with the strength of a myriad years,
Planted deep in the sea with a brow above fears?
Granite finger of God, you still seem urging
That the wise dare all when inspiration steers!