Pioneers to the Great Emerald Land
by Joaquin Miller
merald, emerald, emerald Land;- Land of the sun mists, land of the sea,
- Stately and stainless and storied and grand
- As cloud-mantled Hood in white majesty
- Mother of States, we are worn, we are gray
- Mother of men, we are going away.
- Mother of States, tall mother of men,
- Of cities, of churches, of homes, of sweet rest,
- We are going away, we must journey again,
- As of old we journeyed to the vast, far West.
- We tent by the river, our feet once more,
- Please God, are set for the ultimate shore.
- Mother, white mother, white Oregon
- In emerald kilt, with star-set crown
- Of sapphire, say is it night? Is it dawn?
- Say what of the night? Is it well up
- We are going away.... From yon high watch tower,
- Young men, strong men, say, what of the hour?
- Young men, strong men, there is work to be done;
- Faith to be cherished, battles to fight,
- Victories won were never well won
- Save fearlessly won for God and the right.
- These cities, these homes, sweet peace and her spell
- Be ashes, but ashes, with the infidel.
- Have Faith, such Faith as your fathers knew,
- All else must follow if you have but Faith.
- Be true to their Faith, and you must be true.
- "Lo! I will be with you," the Master saith.
- Good by, dawn breaks; it is coming full day
- And one by one we strike tent and away.
- Good by. Slow folding our snow white tents,
- Our dim eyes lift to the farther shore,
- And never these riddled, gray regiments
- Shall answer full roll-call any more.
- Yet never a doubt, nay, never a fear
- Of old, or now, knew the Pioneer.