What city on a hill
through storm and wars stood still
nor budged from that what's right
or bow'd to dark'ning night
but kept the lanterns lit, and rang
the bell of freedom, indeed, sang
the cause of women, children, men
from everywhere, forever, when
the nations trembled, sore, in vain,
while blood proceeded, poured as rain
upon the town, did leave its stain.
Did She look down, around to blame
or back in weeping, forth in fear?
Nay, she looked up, shed but one tear
rememb'ring yonder Concord bridge;
She's known the world round, Cambridge.
Related content by the author:
No comments:
Post a Comment