Debris

NOT the pilot has charged himself to bring his ship into port, though beaten back, and many times baffled,

Not the path-finder, penetrating inland, weary and long,

By deserts parched, snows chilled, rivers wet, per-severesperseveres till he reaches his destination,

More than I have charged myself, heeded or un-heededunheeded, to compose a free march for These

      States,

To be exhilarating music to them, years, centuries hence.