We love the spot where Valor bled
In the days of other years;
Where some young hero bowed his head
Whom memory endears.

We venerate the mound where lie
Some aged veteran's bones;
Though naught denotes his victory
But rude unsculptured stones.

Say not the Revolution's age
In memory has no place:
Because the present has its page,
The former to efface !

Old soldiers, those who yet remain,
Oh ! guard with tenderest care;
Remembering that they sowed the seed
That made*us what we are.

Prop up those withered oaks that stand,
Memorials of the past:
They tell and point, with trembling hand,
Where Liberty was cast;

Tell where the hero Washington
With his compatriots trod ;
Where many a dauntless warrior's soul
Passed up from strife to God.

Then let our grateful homage prove
Our true fidelity,
To those whose valor, honor, love,
Were pledged to make us free.