The Ship Of State - A Sentiment

This "sentiment" was read on the same occasion as the "Family Record," which immediately follows it. The latter poem is the dutiful tribute of a son to his father and his father's ancestors, residents of Woodstock from its first settlement.

The Ship of State! above her skies are blue,

But still she rocks a little, it is true,

And there are passengers whose faces white

Show they don't feel as happy as they might;

Yet on the whole her crew are quite content,

Since its wild fury the typhoon has spent,

And willing, if her pilot thinks it best,

To head a little nearer south by west.

And this they feel: the ship came too near wreck,

In the long quarrel for the quarter-deck,

Now when she glides serenely on her way, -

The shallows past where dread explosives lay, -

The stiff obstructive's churlish game to try

Let sleeping dogs and still torpedoes lie!

And so I give you all the Ship of State;

Freedom's last venture is her priceless freight;

God speed her, keep her, bless her, while she steers

Amid the breakers of unsounded years;

Lead her through danger's paths with even keel,

And guide the honest hand that holds her wheel!

WOODSTOCK, CONN., July 4, 1877.