Down on the bold New England Coast
The cliffs of Fair Nahant advance,
To meet the Ocean’s daring charge
Like Warrior-Knight with shield and lance.
With tireless might Atlantic drives
Upon Nahant’s defiant shore;
But fortress-like unmoved She stands
‘Gainst mountain seas, forevermore.
With wave on wave, the restless sea,
The deep devouring sea – at will
Comes leaping, climbing high – then reels;
Yet never weary, never still.
On golden mist the silver wings
Of sea-birds poise above the shore;
Where once the Norseman steered his course
In far-off mystic days of yore.
All you that love the wind and foam
From off the folds of Ocean’s train,
Come breathe the spray of Old Nahant,
To rest the fevered soul and brain. |
