Far-off a young State rises, full of might:
I paint its brave escutcheon. Near at hand
See the log-cabin in the rough clearing stand;
A woman by its door, with steadfast sight,
Trustful, looks Westward, where, uplifted bright,
Some city’s Apparition, weird and grand,
In dazzling quiet fronts the lonely land,
With vast and marvellous...