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.

More verses by Kate Harrington

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