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Song Composed for Washington's Birthday, and Respectfully Inscribed to the Officers and Members of the Washington Light Infantry of Charleston, February 22, 1859 A hundred years and more ago A little child was born— To-day, with pomp of martial show, We hail his natal morn. Who guessed as that poor infant wept Upon a woman's knee, A nation from the centuries stept As weak and frail as he? Who saw the future on his brow Upon that happy morn? We are a mighty nation now Because that child was born. To him, and to his spirit's scope, Besides a glorious home, We owe that what we have and hope Are more than Greece and Rome. Henry Timrod's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1173 |
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