L.B. Strawn


Two centuries ago our nation was born –
To fight to the finish our forefathers had sworn,
And now, over many a patriot’s grave
We can sing, “Land of the free and home of the brave”.

They gave this heritage to everyone,
Using sword and cannon and musket gun;
Marching o’er fields where blood ran red,
Over the bodies of comrades, dead.

In summer’s humid and stifling heat –
Mostly forward and seldom retreat.
In dreaded cold of winter’s snow:
Always onward to meet the foe.

In hunger, in thirst, with battle wound,
In agonizing strife, with scarcely a sound
Of complaint o’er the lot of a soldier, brave,
Marching onward into many a grave.

Often weary or fevered and ill,
Lack of clothing against winter’s chill,
Lack of munitions, with which to fight,
But, fight they did, with all of their might.

Some gave their wealth but gained their fame,
And, with all who fought, gained a name.
“Patriot!” It rings, as it flies through the land.
“Patriot!” Wonderful name, so grand.

That’s right!! They gave for you and me;
Died that America might be free.
Let’s vow to keep it that way – you and I.
And, for this great land, be willing to die.

“Patriot!!” Are we worthy of the name?
“Patriot!!” Like those of old, are we the same?
Would we uphold their traditions, true?
I know that I would – would you????