1
THE noble Sire, fallen on evil days, | |
| I saw, with hand uplifted, menacing, brandishing, | |
| (Memories of old in abeyance—love and faith in abeyance,) | |
| The insane knife toward the Mother of All. | |
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2
The noble Son, on sinewy feet advancing, | 5 |
| I saw—out of the land of prairies—land of Ohio’s waters, and of Indiana, | |
| To the rescue, the stalwart giant, hurry his plenteous offspring, | |
| Drest in blue, bearing their trusty rifles on their shoulders. | |
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3
Then the Mother of All, with calm voice speaking, | |
| As to you, Virginia, (I seemed to hear her say,) why strive against me—and why seek my life? | 10 |
| When you yourself forever provide to defend me? | |
| For you provided me Washington—and now these also. | |