Land-Ho!

UP, UP WITH THE SIGNAL!--The land is in sight!
We'll be happy, if never again, boys, to-night!
The cold cheerless ocean in safety we've passed,
And the warm genial earth glads our vision at last.
In the land of the stranger true hearts we shall find,
To soothe us in absence of those left behind.
Land!--land-ho!--All hearts glow with joy at the sight!
We'll be happy, if never again, boys, to-night!

THE SIGNAL IS WAVING!--Till morn we'll remain,
Then part in the hope to meet one day again!
Round the hearth-stone of home in the land of our birth,
The holiest spot on the face of the earth!
Dear country! our thoughts are as constant to thee
As the steel to the star, or the stream to the sea.
Ho!--land-ho!--We near it!--We bound at the sight!
Then be happy, if never again, boys, to-night!

THE SIGNAL IS ANSWERED!--The foam-sparkles rise
Like tears from the fountain of joy to the eyes!
May rain-drops that fall from the storm-clouds of care,
Melt away in the sun-beaming smiles of the fair!
One health, as chime gaily the nautical bells:
To woman--God bless her!--wherever she dwells!
THE PILOT'S ON BOARD!--thank heaven, all's right!
So be happy, if never again, boys, to-night!

George Pope Morris

George Pope Morris was an American editor, poet, and songwriter. Born on October 10, 1802, he made significant contributions to American literature and music. Morris co-founded and edited the New York Evening Mirror, where he published works by Edgar Allan Poe and others. He is perhaps best known for his song "Woodman, Spare That Tree!" and his role in the early 19th-century literary scene. Morris died on July 6, 1864, leaving behind a legacy of editorial and creative work that influenced many American writers and musicians.

George Pope Morris

I Love Thee Still.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

Au Revoir.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

Lucy.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

St. Agnes' Shrine.

George Pope Morris, Simple Poetry

English

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I'm With You Once Again.

I'm with you once again, my friends,
No more my footsteps roam;
Where it began my journey ends,
Amid the scenes of home.
No other clime has skies so blue,
Or streams so broad and clear,
And where are hearts so warm and true
As those that meet me here?

Since last with spirits, wild and free,
I pressed my native strand,
I've wandered many miles at sea,
And many miles on land.
I've seen fair realms of the earth
By rude commotion torn,
Which taught me how to prize the worth
Of that where I was born.

In other countries, when I heard
The language of my own,
How fondly each familiar word
Awoke an answering tone!
But when our woodland songs were sung
Upon a foreign mart,
The vows that faltered on the tongue
With rapture t...

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Land, Ho!

I know tis but a loom of land,
Yet is it land, and so I will rejoice,
I know I cannot hear His voice
Upon the shore, nor see Him stand;
Yet is it land, ho! land.

The land! the land! the lovely land!
Far off, dost say? Far off, ah, blessèd home!
Farewell! farewell! thou salt sea-foam!
Ah, keel upon the silver sand,
Land, ho! land.

You cannot see the land, my land,
You cannot see, and yet the land is there,
My land, my land, through murky air,
I did not say twas close at hand,
But, land, ho! land.

Dost hear the bells of my sweet land,
Dost hear the kine, dost hear the merry birds?
No voice, tis true, no spoken words,
No tongue that thou mayst understand,
Yet is it land, ho! land.

Its clad in purple mist, my land...

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Sailor's Song.

The sea goes up; the sky comes down.
Oh, can you spy the ancient town, -
The granite hills so hard and gray,
That rib the land behind the bay?
    O ye ho, boys! Spread her wings!
    Fair winds, boys: send her home!
    O ye ho!

Three years? Is it so long that we
Have lived upon the lonely sea?
Oh, often I thought we'd see the town,
When the sea went up, and the sky came down.
    O ye ho, boys! Spread her wings!
    Fair winds, boys: send her home!
    O ye ho!

Even the winter winds would rouse
A memory of my father's house;
For round his windows and his door
They made the same deep, mouthless roar.
    O ye ho, boys! Spread her wings!
    Fair winds, boys: send her home!
    O ye ho!

And when the summer's breezes b...

George Parsons Lathrop

O'er the Mountains.

Some spirit wafts our mountain lay--
                    Hili ho! boys, hili ho!
To distant groves and glens away!
                    Hili ho! boys, hili ho!
E'en so the tide of empire flows--
                    Ho! boys, hili ho!
Rejoicing as it westward goes!
                    Ho! boys, hili ho!
        To refresh our weary way
            Gush the crystal fountains,
        As a pilgrim band we stray
            Cheerly o'er the mountains.

The woodland rings with song and shout!
                    Hili ho! boys, hili ho!
As though a fairy hunt were out!
                    Hili ho! boys, hili ho!
E'en so the voice of woman cheers--
                    Ho! boys, hili ho!
The hearts of hardy mountaineers!
                    Ho! boys...

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Up the Hudson.

Song and Chorus.




Up the Hudson!--Fleetly gliding
    To our haunts among the trees!
Joy the gallant vessel guiding
    With a fresh and cheerful breeze!
Wives and dear ones yearn to meet us--
    (Hearts that love us to the core!)
And with fond expressions greet us
    As we near the welcome shore!


Chorus.


Ho! ye inland seas and islands!--
    (Echo follows where we go!)
Ho! ye headlands, hills, and highlands!
    Ho! ye Undercliffeans, ho!


Up the Hudson!--Rock and river,
    Grove and glen pronounce His praise,
Who, of every "Good the Giver,"
    Leads us through these pleasant ways!--
Care recedes like water-traces
    Of our bark, as on we glide,
Where the hand of nature graces<...

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Sailor's Song, Returning

The sea goes up; the sky comes down.
Oh, can you spy the ancient town, -
The granite hills so green and gray,
That rib the land behind the bay?
O ye ho, boys. Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
                O ye ho!

Three years? Is it so long that we
Have lived upon the lonely sea?
Oh, often I thought we'd see the town,
When the sea went up, and the sky came down.
O ye ho, boys. Spread her wings!

Even the winter winds would rouse
A memory of my father's house;
For round his windows and his door
They made the same deep, mouthless roar.
O ye ho, boys. Spread her wings!

And when the summer's breezes beat,
Methought I saw the sunny street
Where stood my Kate. Beneath her hand
She gazed far out, far out from ...

George Parsons Lathrop