Poem: "Oh, The Mountain Maid, New Hampshire," by Edna Dean Proctor

O goodly realm! said Captain Smith
When he told the story in London streets,
And again to court and prince and king;
And in sixteen hundred and twenty-three,
For Dover meadows and Portsmouth river,
Bold and earnest they crossed the sea,

And the realm was theirs and ours forever.
Up from the floods of Piscataqua,
Slowly, slowly they made their way
Back to the Merrimack's eager tide,
Poured through its meadows rich and wide;
And to Winnipesaukee's tranquil sea,
Bosomed in hills and bright with isles.
Up and on to the mountains piled,
Peak o'er peak, in the northern air,
Where the Great Stone Face looms changeless calm;
They labored and longed through the dawning grey and fair,
For the blessed break of the larger day.
Land of fame and of high endeavor,
Strength and glory be thine forever!

from: Family records of the branches of Hanaford, Thompson, Huckins, Prescott, Smith, Neal, Haley, Lock, Swift, Plumer, Leavitt, Wilson, Green, and allied families, by Mary E. Neal Hanaford; Rockford IL, 1915, page 60.

See article about New Hampshire-born poet, Edna Dean Proctor's life and her family tree.

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