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—