The San Saba news. [volume] (San Saba, Tex.) 1873-1966, 1889-07-05
WASHINGTON.

WASHINGTON.
sing of one who lives, and is not dead,
Whose name and fame can never, never
die;
The grave, calm man, of solemn voice and
Of martial soul, great heart, firm hand, clear
head
Who through the gates of hell his legions led
Beneath frowning skyi
Oppressed by hate and envy in the North,
By thoughts of those he cherished in the
South,
With courageable heart he still went forth,
Through famine and through drouth,
To be the savior-fatber-of the land
In the hollow of Gods hand
I see him in the rich Virginia fields,
Amid the clover and the asphodel,
While round him boom tine bees, meath
FURNISHED shields,
And over him the woodlands clear notes
swell,
A happy boy, with butterflies at play.
Through a long summer day.
And then see the young surveyor tramp
Where the wild red man and deer had gone
before;
And, when the day is dead, see him camp
Beneath the stars, where swollen rivers
roar,
L eHt MN VIII his sweetheart ltdu Llc uducH.
/ catch the words he pours into her ears;
1 see him spinning dove song. perchance,
And all his disappointed signs I hear.
see him through the French and Indian
In training for the work that's sure to
come,
When King Georges long endured, tyrannic
Win be appealed from, to the music of the
drum
see him when the shot at Lexington
Goes whirling through the balmy, generous
South
And see that strong, indomitable mouth
OF Nirginia's most indomitable son,
As he buckled on his sword-his charger
strides,
And northward ridesl
| see him swing through streets in Boston
town:
I hear him, through his almost sleepless
nights,
Speak words Of cheer, out on Dorchester
Heights
When his ragged continentals groan and
frown.
I see him cross the icy Delaware.
Beneath December's icy, starless skies;
And Trenton, Princeton, rise before my
eyes,
And then, again, grim, awful, blank despairl
No food-no clothes-no Enthusiastically
No shOt-no powder-nothing to inspire
Their weary souls-but our great Hero
therei
With bleeding hearts and feet, they watch
the day
Go sadly down the West:
Upon the white and frozen earth they rest.
In that bleak, wind-swept gorge,
While their great commander lnelt him
down to pray,
Upon the frozen sod
To the Almighty God,
At Valley Forget
Dear God, who sees each little grassblade
that grows;
Dear God, who gives the forest minstrels
Who commandest every wind that ever
blows;
To whom all stars, all hearts, all minds,
belong;
Who sees, with an all-seeing Eye, the souls
OF puny men-make our hearts, our souls,
strong
To fight the good fight in our holy cause.
And guide US from the cruel deeps 10
shoals.
Thou givest wandering birds in storms a
Thou tsmperest the wind to the shorn
lamb;
Thou hast made the dead to rise, the blind to
10, 1 bare my soul to Thee for what I am
A poor, weak mortal, with a love for Thee.
And with love for country and for
peace,
And Liberty
Vouchsafe to lead US on to victory.
And from bondage and from tyranny
release
Thy children and their land.
Turn our night to day,
And still hold US in the hollow Of Thy
hand.
Lord here we pray~
And the Lord BE heard him pray there in
the snow,
A grand century ago,
e'r the stars and stripes would not be yon-
der flying
Glow, see HIM nurse the sick and watch
the dying
Hear his deep
wesT
ib~