1776-1876.
By Appointment of the U. S. Centennial Commision.
"The
Centennial
Meditation of Columbia" (1876)
A Cantata
for
the Inaugural Ceremonies
at Philadelphia, May 10, 1876.
[CENTENNIAL CANTATA.]
Poem by
Sidney Lanier,
[Sidney Clopton Lanier, 1842-1881]
of Georgia.
Music by
Dudley Buck, [1839-1909]
of Connecticut.

New York: G. SCHIRMER, 701 Broadway.
Electrotyped by Smith & McDougal, 82 Beckman Street, New York
[Source: Harvard University, Department of Music;
Gift of Prof. J. K. Paine, Nov. 20, 1886]

From this hundred-teraced height,
Sight more large with nobler light
Ranges down yon tow’ring years:
Humbler smiles and lordlier tears
  Shine and fall, Shine and fall,
While old voices rise and call,
Yonder where the to-and-fro
Welt’ring of my Long-Ago,
Moves about the moveless base,
Far below my resting-place.

Mayflower, May flower, slowly hither flying.
Trembling Westward o’er yon balking sea,
Hearts within “Farewell, dear England,” sighing.
Winds without “But dear in vain.” replying,
Gray-lipp’d waved about thee shouted, crying,
  “No! It shall not be!”

    Jamestown, out of thee,
    Plymouth, thee—-thee, Albany,—-
    Winter cries, "Ye burn: away!"
    Fever cries, "Ye starve: away!"
    Vengeance cries, "Your graves shall stay!"

Then old Shapes and Masks of Things,
Framed like Faiths or clothed like Kings--
Ghosts of Goods once fleshed and fair,
Grown foul Bads in alien air--
War, and his most noisy lords,
Tongued with lithe and possoned swords--

    Error, Terror, Rage and Crime,
    All in a windy night of time,
    Cried to me from land and sea,
        “No! No! Thou shalt not be!”

        Hark!

Hugenots whispering "yea" in the dark,
Puritans answering "yea" in the dark!
"Yea," like an arrow shot true to his mark,
Darts thro’ the tyrannous heart of Denial,
Patience and Labor nd solemn-souled Trial,
        Foiled, still beginning,
        Soiled, but not sinning,
Toil thro’ the stertorous death of the Night,
Toil, when wild brother-wars new-dark the Light,
Toil, and forgive, and kiss o’er and replight.

    Now Praise to God’s oft-granted grace,
    Now Praise to Man’s undaunted face,
    Despite the land, despite the sea,
    I was: I am: and I shall be,-—
How long, Good Angel, O how long?
Sing me from Heav’n a man’s own song!

  "Long as thine Art shall love true love,
   Long as thy Science truth shall know,
   Long as thine Eagle harms no Dove,
   Long as thy God is God above,
   Thy brother every man below,
   So long, dear Land of all my love,
   Thy name shall shine, thy fame shall glow!"

O Music, from this height of time my Word unfold:
In thy large signals all men’s hearts Man’s Heart behold:
Mid-heaven unroll thy chords as friendly flags unfurled,
And wave the world’s best lover’s welcome to the world.