South Pass, The

'Tis but the opening step that costs,
     For labor, love, or laurel; 
With corn that dared the vernal frosts
     The autumnal never quarrel. 
The Rubicon of Laramie,
     Passed bravely by the ranger, 
None doubted then his foot to see
     Victorious over danger.

And, now the mighty goal is won —
     That Portal of the Mountains,
Where forth to either ocean run 
     The floods of rival fountains —
No rugged rocks' gigantic mass,

     No fathomless abysses, 
Confound the vasty mountain-pass,
     With horrent precipices.

By endless slopes of climbing plain,
     O'er-starred with blooming Asters, 
The foot, unconscious of its strain.
     The towering summit masters: 
Ascent as easy to subdue,
     When on the way the will is,
As up your glorious Avenue,
     The Capitolian Hill is!

The Gallant who has climbed that steep.
     And many a summit harder. 
From Jessie-mine-bowered Lover's-Leap,
     To snowy-gulfed Nevada, 
May lightly reach this spot of earth,
     Where gleams Ambition's tower —
Just stepping, from the top of Worth,
     Down on the top of Power.

Through perils from the savage foe, 
     And kindly hearts unstable,
From dastard souls who would not go,
     And weak who were unable, 
We've reached the SOUTHERN PASS, at last,
     Star-flowered with better promise, 
And if we will, we'll soon have passed,
     Where Slavery's floods roll from us !

Up then, ye dauntless freemen, on!
     Track close your dauntless Master; 
We've crossed the fateful Rubicon,
     To victory or disaster. 
This day the nation's noblest hopes
     Hang trembling in the balance. 
Up! charge the level Pass, that opes
     The broad Free West, my Gallants !

While now the finger of Events
     Though tremulous, like the needle, 
Points only North, out from your tents,
     In squadrons millipedal! 
And march for Freedom's Mountain-door,
     Where Slavery's flood rolls from us 
And living fountains flash, that pour
     Down all our Land of Promise.
Thus only can we reach that hight [sic]
     Which towers aloft supremely, 
Where truth is law, and right is might,
     Far seen before us, dimly. 
Then on! and He who bore his flag
     Across the Mountain's Portal, 
Will bear up ours, as o'er his crag,
     To Freedom's Peak immortal.