He comes a hero to a heroes' home,
New England's hills, peal forth your thrice All Hail,
Far as the Gulf, till every seaward sail
Bends low to hear, and Orizaba's dome
Heaves his flame-hearted breast of barren brown
And breaks the frosts that bind his helmet-crown,
To see his realm re-born,
Which late the old worlds could scorn,
Now nearer to life's flowering marge of morn;
To see his country's chief and chosen thereof
In war and peace its eagle and its dove,
Called here to reap the far fruits of past pain
And bear New England's blessing to New Spain
With the strong Northman's love.