The Project Gutenberg eBook ofPoems

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofPoemsThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: PoemsAuthor: Crocket McElroyRelease date: July 22, 2016 [eBook #52623]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS ***

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: PoemsAuthor: Crocket McElroyRelease date: July 22, 2016 [eBook #52623]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)

Title: Poems

Author: Crocket McElroy

Release date: July 22, 2016 [eBook #52623]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS ***

BYCROCKET McELROY.St. Clair, Michigan.[Image of the colophon unavailable.]CHICAGO,SCROLL PUBLISHING COMPANY,1900.Copyrighted, 1900,BYCROCKET McELROY.

Hon. Thomas W. Palmer, Detroit, Michigan;Hon. Joseph B. Moore, Lansing, Michigan;Captain Byron Whitaker, Detroit, Michigan;Henry C. French, Esq., Buffalo, New York;Charles A. Calzin, Esq., Marine City, Michigan;and all my other friends, this book is dedicated.Crocket McElroy.

At morning light October twelfth,In fourteen hundred ninety-two,With shouts of joy and dreams of wealth,Columbus and his happy crew,Sang land ahoy! Sweet land ahoy!And landing on the virgin soil,Gave thanks to God, in tears of joy,And laughed at danger, care and toil.And thus became our country knownA short four hundred years ago,And yet in greatness it has grownBeyond the reach of man to know;The forests vast have given wayBefore man’s mighty march and hand,And prairie wastes like night to dayHave changed to blooming garden land.The savage hosts that here were foundLiving like roving beasts of prey,Have given up their hunting ground,And thrown their poisoned darts away;Now turning to the arts of peace,And living on the white man’s plan,Their wasted numbers will increase,While they respect the rights of man.The howling wolf and dreaded bear,The buffalo and antelope,And all the beasts not in man’s care,Are going down the western slope;Whate’er obstructs the onward tread,Of the overwhelming march of man,Must soon be numbered with the dead,All sacrificed on nature’s plan.The mighty rivers and great lakes,Where once did float the bark canoe,Are but the means that nature makes,To push man’s grand endeavors thru;And now upon these waters floatsA commerce of a size so vast,(In more than seven thousand boats)It never yet has been surpassed.And pressing on for conquests new,The teeming millions reach our shore,And bore the very mountains thru,In eager reaching out for more;The earth gives up its lead and gold,Its silver, copper, salt, and oil,And countless wealth will yet unfold,Ere man has ceased to think and toil.A thousand cities now we show,And eighty million freemen rule,Where but four hundred years ago,There was no house, or church, or school,And not a white man yet had trodThe fairest portion of the earth,The land where all may worship God,Where liberty was given birth.In seventeen hundred seventy-six,The brave forefathers of this land,Tired of tyrannic laws and tricks,Resolved to take a noble stand;So on the fourth day of JulyThey said this country must be free,And pledged themselves to win or die,In fighting for its liberty.Then thirteen states together joinedAnd declared themselves a nation,And prouder names were never coinedThan endorsed that declaration.Our country now must have a flag,To be praised in song and story,No silly or unmeaning rag,But an emblem of our glory.Flags are made of various types,Our Congress chose for us the best,And with our handsome stars and stripes,We do not care for all the rest;With seven red and six white bars,A corner field of pretty blue,In which to set the coming stars,Now counting three and forty-two.Each star a state does represent,A powerful aggregation,And each one has a government,For its local regulation;So great we’ve grown in width and length,The truth can hardly be believed;We do not boast of size or strength,But of the work we have achieved.We sixty thousand schools maintainFor the children of our nation,Where free of cost they can obtainA liberal education;And sixty thousand churches, too,Where people freely worship God,Learn how to love, be good and true,For that’s the style on freedom’s sod.We make ships go ’gainst wind and tide,Our steamers sail to ev’ry shore,And on our railroads one can rideTwo hundred thousand miles and more;Our Franklin brought the lightning down,Morse made it talk thru miles of wire,And Edison has gained renown,By using it for light and fire.We now can hear a thousand miles,The ever welcome voice of friends,And on our little waxen filesPreserve it till life’s journey ends;The sweetest music in the worldIs sung and played for all mankind,The notes are caught and then unfurled,And lift man’s heart and cheer his mind.With gratitude our hearts are filledFor the triumphs of our nation,We’ll not forget good blood was spilledIn fighting for its salvation;We love our country and our flag,And know not how to amend it,And when it calls we will not lagIn rallying to defend it.O how it inspires one to hear,When passing by upon the street,The children sing in school house near,“Forever float that standard sheet,”And changing time to music true“The star spangled banner shall wave,”Following with “Red, white and blue,”And cheers for the flag of the brave.In many nations of the earth,Where kings and other tyrants rule,The people’s rights are little worth,Until they learn from freedom’s school;But monarchs now are growing wise,And hearts rejoice o’er all the world,As freedom’s fires light the skies,Where’er our noble flag’s unfurled.For justice and for liberty,Our country is the champion,We’ll advocate humanity,Where’er man’s rights are trampled on;In quiet peace we aim to live,Avoiding war whene’er we can,But life and gold we’ll freely giveTo help our suff’ring fellowman.There is no nation that we fearHowever skilled in war or arts,We need no standing army here,Our bulwark’s made of human hearts;We have no lords, no king to crown,But mindful of the bitter past,We’ve anchored all our virtues down,And nailed our banner to the mast.Respected now o’er all the earth,In ev’ry country great and small,The flag that crowned our nation’s birth,Floats proudly with the best of all:And now from school house top it flies,And on all ships we send to sea,The grandest flag beneath the skies,The glorious flag of liberty.

And thus became our country knownA short four hundred years ago,And yet in greatness it has grownBeyond the reach of man to know;The forests vast have given wayBefore man’s mighty march and hand,And prairie wastes like night to dayHave changed to blooming garden land.

The savage hosts that here were foundLiving like roving beasts of prey,Have given up their hunting ground,And thrown their poisoned darts away;Now turning to the arts of peace,And living on the white man’s plan,Their wasted numbers will increase,While they respect the rights of man.

The howling wolf and dreaded bear,The buffalo and antelope,And all the beasts not in man’s care,Are going down the western slope;Whate’er obstructs the onward tread,Of the overwhelming march of man,Must soon be numbered with the dead,All sacrificed on nature’s plan.

The mighty rivers and great lakes,Where once did float the bark canoe,Are but the means that nature makes,To push man’s grand endeavors thru;And now upon these waters floatsA commerce of a size so vast,(In more than seven thousand boats)It never yet has been surpassed.

And pressing on for conquests new,The teeming millions reach our shore,And bore the very mountains thru,In eager reaching out for more;The earth gives up its lead and gold,Its silver, copper, salt, and oil,And countless wealth will yet unfold,Ere man has ceased to think and toil.

A thousand cities now we show,And eighty million freemen rule,Where but four hundred years ago,There was no house, or church, or school,And not a white man yet had trodThe fairest portion of the earth,The land where all may worship God,Where liberty was given birth.

In seventeen hundred seventy-six,The brave forefathers of this land,Tired of tyrannic laws and tricks,Resolved to take a noble stand;So on the fourth day of JulyThey said this country must be free,And pledged themselves to win or die,In fighting for its liberty.

Then thirteen states together joinedAnd declared themselves a nation,And prouder names were never coinedThan endorsed that declaration.Our country now must have a flag,To be praised in song and story,No silly or unmeaning rag,But an emblem of our glory.

Flags are made of various types,Our Congress chose for us the best,And with our handsome stars and stripes,We do not care for all the rest;With seven red and six white bars,A corner field of pretty blue,In which to set the coming stars,Now counting three and forty-two.

Each star a state does represent,A powerful aggregation,And each one has a government,For its local regulation;So great we’ve grown in width and length,The truth can hardly be believed;We do not boast of size or strength,But of the work we have achieved.

We sixty thousand schools maintainFor the children of our nation,Where free of cost they can obtainA liberal education;And sixty thousand churches, too,Where people freely worship God,Learn how to love, be good and true,For that’s the style on freedom’s sod.

We make ships go ’gainst wind and tide,Our steamers sail to ev’ry shore,And on our railroads one can rideTwo hundred thousand miles and more;Our Franklin brought the lightning down,Morse made it talk thru miles of wire,And Edison has gained renown,By using it for light and fire.

We now can hear a thousand miles,The ever welcome voice of friends,And on our little waxen filesPreserve it till life’s journey ends;The sweetest music in the worldIs sung and played for all mankind,The notes are caught and then unfurled,And lift man’s heart and cheer his mind.

With gratitude our hearts are filledFor the triumphs of our nation,We’ll not forget good blood was spilledIn fighting for its salvation;We love our country and our flag,And know not how to amend it,And when it calls we will not lagIn rallying to defend it.

O how it inspires one to hear,When passing by upon the street,The children sing in school house near,“Forever float that standard sheet,”And changing time to music true“The star spangled banner shall wave,”Following with “Red, white and blue,”And cheers for the flag of the brave.

In many nations of the earth,Where kings and other tyrants rule,The people’s rights are little worth,Until they learn from freedom’s school;But monarchs now are growing wise,And hearts rejoice o’er all the world,As freedom’s fires light the skies,Where’er our noble flag’s unfurled.

For justice and for liberty,Our country is the champion,We’ll advocate humanity,Where’er man’s rights are trampled on;In quiet peace we aim to live,Avoiding war whene’er we can,But life and gold we’ll freely giveTo help our suff’ring fellowman.

There is no nation that we fearHowever skilled in war or arts,We need no standing army here,Our bulwark’s made of human hearts;We have no lords, no king to crown,But mindful of the bitter past,We’ve anchored all our virtues down,And nailed our banner to the mast.

Respected now o’er all the earth,In ev’ry country great and small,The flag that crowned our nation’s birth,Floats proudly with the best of all:And now from school house top it flies,And on all ships we send to sea,The grandest flag beneath the skies,The glorious flag of liberty.

Written June 10th, 1898, to commemorate in verse the great achievement of Richard P. Hobson and his crew of seven men, in sinking the steamer “Merrimac,” in the mouth of Santiago harbor, island of Cuba, under orders of Admiral Sampson.

When Hobson saw his country’s need,Demanded human sacrifice,He asked that he might do the deed,And give his life to pay the price.

Three cheers now, boys, for liberty,Three cheers again in louder voice,For Hobson and his victory,And for the flag of Hobson’s choice.

He knew the course that he must takeWould lead him to the mouth of hell,And boldly for his country’s sake,He braved the storm of shot and shell.He knew that mines beset the place,Where he must go to sink his ship,And death would meet him face to face,Ere he had time to make the trip.He knew his ship was weak and frail,And could not stand the Spanish fire;But all the signs that he would fail,Served but to raise his courage higher.He knew that bombs embraced his boat,And one good shot would send her high,But lose or win, and sink or float,He was ready to do and die.Advised to hoist the flag of Spain,And thus deceive his watchful foe,He could not bear his name to stain,And quickly gave a manly “No.”“The stars and stripes, I love the name,”(Thus spake the grand heroic voice.)“Whether I fall, or rise to fame,My country’s flag shall be my choice.”His mother’s home might soon be sold,But surely this can never be,His life should take the place of gold,When given for humanity.He gaged his countrymen right well,And left his mother in their hands;No mortgagee could ever sell,A nation’s hero’s mother’s lands.Seven brave men composed his crew,All volunteers from Sampson’s fleet,And ev’ry man a hero true,Knowing the danger he must meet.His ship was called the Merrimac,A noted name in history.And soon she’ll sink and block a track,A sacrifice to victory.At morning dawn the start was made,And quick he reached the chosen spot,’Mid storms of shell from hill and glade,And hundreds of death dealing shot.The cannons roared, the engine stop’d,The anchor then was quickly dumped,All hands ran aft, a float was drop’d,And onto it eight heroes jumped.The fuse was lit, the ship blew up,And sank upon the proper site,Cervera’s fleet was bottled up,And lost all chance to win the fight.A braver deed was never done,In all the ages of mankind,Since Adam faced the morning sun,Or Christ inspired the human mind.Their duty done, no longer useTo risk their lives upon that trip,And hoisting up a flag of truceWere taken to Cervera’s ship.The Admiral, a gallant man,As ever storm of battle braved,Altho he did not like the plan,Rejoiced that our brave men were saved.And then he did a noble act,As human ear has ever heard,By telling us the joyful fact,And sending our brave Sampson word.A thousand cheers now rent the air,And echoed all around the world,Where freedom’s sons and daughters fair,Will keep our hero’s flag unfurled.Brave Hobson has adorned his age,And nobly won immortal fame,His deed will blaze on hist’ry’s page,And all the world will praise his name.

He knew the course that he must takeWould lead him to the mouth of hell,And boldly for his country’s sake,He braved the storm of shot and shell.

He knew that mines beset the place,Where he must go to sink his ship,And death would meet him face to face,Ere he had time to make the trip.

He knew his ship was weak and frail,And could not stand the Spanish fire;But all the signs that he would fail,Served but to raise his courage higher.

He knew that bombs embraced his boat,And one good shot would send her high,But lose or win, and sink or float,He was ready to do and die.

Advised to hoist the flag of Spain,And thus deceive his watchful foe,He could not bear his name to stain,And quickly gave a manly “No.”

“The stars and stripes, I love the name,”(Thus spake the grand heroic voice.)“Whether I fall, or rise to fame,My country’s flag shall be my choice.”

His mother’s home might soon be sold,But surely this can never be,His life should take the place of gold,When given for humanity.

He gaged his countrymen right well,And left his mother in their hands;No mortgagee could ever sell,A nation’s hero’s mother’s lands.

Seven brave men composed his crew,All volunteers from Sampson’s fleet,And ev’ry man a hero true,Knowing the danger he must meet.

His ship was called the Merrimac,A noted name in history.And soon she’ll sink and block a track,A sacrifice to victory.

At morning dawn the start was made,And quick he reached the chosen spot,’Mid storms of shell from hill and glade,And hundreds of death dealing shot.

The cannons roared, the engine stop’d,The anchor then was quickly dumped,All hands ran aft, a float was drop’d,And onto it eight heroes jumped.

The fuse was lit, the ship blew up,And sank upon the proper site,Cervera’s fleet was bottled up,And lost all chance to win the fight.

A braver deed was never done,In all the ages of mankind,Since Adam faced the morning sun,Or Christ inspired the human mind.

Their duty done, no longer useTo risk their lives upon that trip,And hoisting up a flag of truceWere taken to Cervera’s ship.

The Admiral, a gallant man,As ever storm of battle braved,Altho he did not like the plan,Rejoiced that our brave men were saved.

And then he did a noble act,As human ear has ever heard,By telling us the joyful fact,And sending our brave Sampson word.

A thousand cheers now rent the air,And echoed all around the world,Where freedom’s sons and daughters fair,Will keep our hero’s flag unfurled.

Brave Hobson has adorned his age,And nobly won immortal fame,His deed will blaze on hist’ry’s page,And all the world will praise his name.

Make your walks level and see they are straightAnd hang sweet flowers on your open gate,Throw the blinds apart, raise the curtains high,Swing the door open and then stand near by,For an old soldier is coming along.His step now is short and not very strong,He uses a crutch to help him along,His heart is honest and his head is clear,He blossoms with love and brings you good cheer,For he’s a good soldier hobbling along.He has but one eye and that is quite weak,But thanks to his God his good tongue can speak,He stops to converse and rest him awhile,And meets an old friend who greets with a smileThe gallant old soldier coming along.The little dogs bark when they see the crutch,For fear he will give them a gentle touch,The little boys laugh and he speaks no blame,But stops and helps them finish their game,For he’s a kind soldier coming along.The boys admire him and bring him a seat,And gather about to hear him repeatThe stories of war in the field and camp,In the fort and trench, or on the long tramp,As the brave soldier was talking along.He tells them slowly how the battle begun,With rattle of muskets and booming gun,How the soldier’s hopes arose and then fell,As cheers were followed by bursting shell,As the old soldier was marching along.How the orders were given fast and thick,The first one to march, then the double quick;How the brave Colonel led into the fight,Where the battle was hot on left and right,As the old soldier was running along.How the boys in blue gave the rebels fitsAs they pop’d their heads out of rifle pits.And soon drove them behind their breastworks strong,Where they stood their ground bravely and long,And stop’d the old soldier coming along.How the cannons roared and the bullets hissedAnd many comrades from the ranks were missed;How the Captains shouted high and higher“Stand your ground, boys, load and fire, load and fire,”As the old soldier was fighting along.How just as the works of the rebels fell,His eye was ruined by a piece of shell,And just as the boys were scaling the wall,His leg was broken by a cannon ball,Broken and smashed by a cannon ball.How sad his thoughts as he lay on the ground,And felt he was dying from his death wound;But roused by the cheers for victory won,And sweet consolation for duty well done,The old hero is still coming along.How he thought as he lay a plan to contrive,To show his comrades he still was alive,And held up his cap with his musket high,So the boys could see it as they passed by,Poor suff’ring soldier not ready to die.How the boys soon came with an ambulance,And gathered him in by good luck and chance,For holding up his cap was taking his breath,And well they knew he was bleeding to death,The brave old soldier was bleeding to death.How the surgeons laid him on a rough board,And took off his leg not saying a word,They looked at his eye, “ ’Tis useless,” they said,“Boys, take him away and put him in bed,”The helpless soldier now lying in bed.How six long weeks in hospital he lay,And prayed for his wife and children each day,“How to support them, Lord, give me some plan,Tho broken in pieces I still am a man,”The poor broken soldier still is a man.Paid off and discharged when able to go,With heart as light and pure as the snow,He steps on the cars and away is whirled,To realms of love in his own little world,The loving old soldier coming along.He has plenty to eat and plenty to wear,And draws a pension that frees him from care,His wife’s contented, his children as neat,As any children you see on the street,He’s a happy soldier coming along.“Boys, don’t run away when your country’s in need,But prove your courage by brave act and deed,And if you should fall, for you is the fame,On tablets of honor, you’ve written your name,”Said the brave old soldier coming along.

His step now is short and not very strong,He uses a crutch to help him along,His heart is honest and his head is clear,He blossoms with love and brings you good cheer,For he’s a good soldier hobbling along.

He has but one eye and that is quite weak,But thanks to his God his good tongue can speak,He stops to converse and rest him awhile,And meets an old friend who greets with a smileThe gallant old soldier coming along.

The little dogs bark when they see the crutch,For fear he will give them a gentle touch,The little boys laugh and he speaks no blame,But stops and helps them finish their game,For he’s a kind soldier coming along.

The boys admire him and bring him a seat,And gather about to hear him repeatThe stories of war in the field and camp,In the fort and trench, or on the long tramp,As the brave soldier was talking along.

He tells them slowly how the battle begun,With rattle of muskets and booming gun,How the soldier’s hopes arose and then fell,As cheers were followed by bursting shell,As the old soldier was marching along.

How the orders were given fast and thick,The first one to march, then the double quick;How the brave Colonel led into the fight,Where the battle was hot on left and right,As the old soldier was running along.

How the boys in blue gave the rebels fitsAs they pop’d their heads out of rifle pits.And soon drove them behind their breastworks strong,Where they stood their ground bravely and long,And stop’d the old soldier coming along.

How the cannons roared and the bullets hissedAnd many comrades from the ranks were missed;How the Captains shouted high and higher“Stand your ground, boys, load and fire, load and fire,”As the old soldier was fighting along.

How just as the works of the rebels fell,His eye was ruined by a piece of shell,And just as the boys were scaling the wall,His leg was broken by a cannon ball,Broken and smashed by a cannon ball.

How sad his thoughts as he lay on the ground,And felt he was dying from his death wound;But roused by the cheers for victory won,And sweet consolation for duty well done,The old hero is still coming along.

How he thought as he lay a plan to contrive,To show his comrades he still was alive,And held up his cap with his musket high,So the boys could see it as they passed by,Poor suff’ring soldier not ready to die.

How the boys soon came with an ambulance,And gathered him in by good luck and chance,For holding up his cap was taking his breath,And well they knew he was bleeding to death,The brave old soldier was bleeding to death.

How the surgeons laid him on a rough board,And took off his leg not saying a word,They looked at his eye, “ ’Tis useless,” they said,“Boys, take him away and put him in bed,”The helpless soldier now lying in bed.

How six long weeks in hospital he lay,And prayed for his wife and children each day,“How to support them, Lord, give me some plan,Tho broken in pieces I still am a man,”The poor broken soldier still is a man.

Paid off and discharged when able to go,With heart as light and pure as the snow,He steps on the cars and away is whirled,To realms of love in his own little world,The loving old soldier coming along.

He has plenty to eat and plenty to wear,And draws a pension that frees him from care,His wife’s contented, his children as neat,As any children you see on the street,He’s a happy soldier coming along.

“Boys, don’t run away when your country’s in need,But prove your courage by brave act and deed,And if you should fall, for you is the fame,On tablets of honor, you’ve written your name,”Said the brave old soldier coming along.

History tells of noble men,Of soldiers brave and statesmen great,And how they wrought with sword and pen,To raise man to a higher state:The good and wise in ev’ry age,Left honored names to lean upon;But not a name on hist’ry’s pageShines brighter than George Washington.Great Hannibal the Alps did cross,And proudly march on Italy;But suffered a tremendous loss,By giving way to revelry;Philip won at Charonea,And Caesar crossed the Rubicon;Alexander conquered Persia;But nobler was our Washington.Cromwell wielded a dreaded sword.And thousands fell beneath his stroke;Cruelty stained his ill gained hoard,Nor could time mend the hearts he broke.Peter the Great was truly greatBut tortured to death his own son;He builded up a mighty state,But does not rank with Washington.Cincinnatus was good and brave,And fought for country, not for fame;He left his plow his state to save,And gave the world an honored name.Mighty in war, in council strong,Was the world famed Napoleon,But oft ambition led him wrong;This was not true of Washington.Great warriors and statesmen wise,Have filled the world with their renown,And often when they gained a prize,Have placed upon their heads a crown;And frequently by deeds of shame,Have lost the glory they had won,No hero e’er had purer fame,Than modest, honest Washington.His brave soldiers he grandly led,With frosted feet and hands all bare,Over the cold earth’s frozen bed,Across the icy Delaware;And when they met the foes of right,They shouted loud, “Come on! Come on!!”And cheered as they went in the fight,“Hurrah! Hurrah!! for Washington.”A famous battle then was fought,That spread our glory far and wide,And tho thru suff’ring dearly bought,It turned the tide to freedom’s side;Not ice, nor cold, nor frozen feet,Could stop our heroes marching on,So eager they the foe to meet,And fight for love of Washington.When victory at last was won,And the foe driven from our sod,The people said, “Well done, well done,”Our hero said “Thanks be to God.”Some wanted him to be their King,But not a crown would he put on;Did ever King a nobler thing,Than patriot soldier Washington?“The first in war and first in peace,And the hearts of his countrymen,”A grateful nation ne’er will cease,To class him with the wisest men:For freedom’s cause o’er all the world,He prayed and labored, fought and won,Where’er his country’s flag’s unfurled,There cheers will rise for Washington.

Great Hannibal the Alps did cross,And proudly march on Italy;But suffered a tremendous loss,By giving way to revelry;Philip won at Charonea,And Caesar crossed the Rubicon;Alexander conquered Persia;But nobler was our Washington.

Cromwell wielded a dreaded sword.And thousands fell beneath his stroke;Cruelty stained his ill gained hoard,Nor could time mend the hearts he broke.Peter the Great was truly greatBut tortured to death his own son;He builded up a mighty state,But does not rank with Washington.

Cincinnatus was good and brave,And fought for country, not for fame;He left his plow his state to save,And gave the world an honored name.Mighty in war, in council strong,Was the world famed Napoleon,But oft ambition led him wrong;This was not true of Washington.

Great warriors and statesmen wise,Have filled the world with their renown,And often when they gained a prize,Have placed upon their heads a crown;And frequently by deeds of shame,Have lost the glory they had won,No hero e’er had purer fame,Than modest, honest Washington.

His brave soldiers he grandly led,With frosted feet and hands all bare,Over the cold earth’s frozen bed,Across the icy Delaware;And when they met the foes of right,They shouted loud, “Come on! Come on!!”And cheered as they went in the fight,“Hurrah! Hurrah!! for Washington.”

A famous battle then was fought,That spread our glory far and wide,And tho thru suff’ring dearly bought,It turned the tide to freedom’s side;Not ice, nor cold, nor frozen feet,Could stop our heroes marching on,So eager they the foe to meet,And fight for love of Washington.

When victory at last was won,And the foe driven from our sod,The people said, “Well done, well done,”Our hero said “Thanks be to God.”Some wanted him to be their King,But not a crown would he put on;Did ever King a nobler thing,Than patriot soldier Washington?

“The first in war and first in peace,And the hearts of his countrymen,”A grateful nation ne’er will cease,To class him with the wisest men:For freedom’s cause o’er all the world,He prayed and labored, fought and won,Where’er his country’s flag’s unfurled,There cheers will rise for Washington.

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