There were young and old men and women, and some were gaunt and weary, but most were bold and strong.

There were weapons for all, and rude implements, as well, of industry.

In the faces of all there was visible the spirit of their yellow-bearded leader, who made the center of the picture's foreground.
I saw the soul of that canvas--a splendid resolution--a look forward, a purpose, an aim to be attained at no counting of cost.

I say, as I gazed at that canvas, I saw in it the columns of my own people moving westward across the Land, fierce-eyed, fearless, doubting nothing, fearing nothing.

That was the genius of America when I myself was young.