By the rude bridge
that arched the flood,
Their flag to
April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the
embattled farmers stood,
And fired the
shot heard round the world.
The foe long since
in silence slept;
Alike the
conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined
bridge has swept
Down the dark
stream which seaward creeps.
On this green bank,
by this soft stream,
We set today a
votive stone;
That memory may
their deed redeem,
When, like our
sires, our sons are gone.
Spirit that made
those heroes dare
To die, and
leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature
gently spare
No comments:
Post a Comment