The breaking waves dashed high br On a stern and rock-bound coast, br And the woods, against a stormy sky, br Their giant branches tost; br br And the heavy night hung dark br The hills and water o'er, br When a band of exiles moored their bark br On the wild New England shore. br br Not as the conqueror comes, br They, the true-hearted, came; br Not with the roll of the stirring drums, br And the trumpet that sings of fame; br br Not as the flying come, br In silence and in fear, - br They shook the depths of the desert's gloom br With their hymns of lofty cheer. br br Amidst the storm they sang, br And the stars heard and the sea; br And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang br To the anthem of the free. br br The ocean-eagle soared br From his nest by the white wave's foam, br And the rocking pines of the forest roared - br This was their welcome home! br br There were men with hoary hair br Amidst that pilgrim band: br Why had they come to wither there, br Away from their childhood's land? br br There was woman's fearless eye, br Lit by her deep love's truth; br There was manhood's brow serenely high, br And the fiery heart of youth.