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4th of July Poems

Poems for Independence Day

4th of July Poem Suggestions

We celebrate a "day of days,"
Which saw a nation rise
Through din of battle, clash of arms,
And severed kindred ties.
This day we draw aside the veil,
And backward take a look
On stirring scenes, brought to our view,
As in an open book.

– Mary M. North
Independence Day

4th of July Poems for Kids

  1. Paul Revere's Ride by H. W. Longfellow
  2. The Message of the Liberty Bell by Elvira Robinson
  3. The Veteran and the Child by H. F. Gould
  4. Independence Day by Mary M. North
  5. Liberty Bell by J. P. Dunn

Famous 4th of July Poems

  1. Paul Revere's Ride by H. W. Longfellow
  2. Concord Hymn by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Short 4th of July Poems

  1. Liberty Bell by J. P. Dunn
  2. Anthem for the Fourth of July by Unknown
  3. Military Song for the Fourth by Unknown

Long 4th of July Poems

  1. Paul Revere's Ride by H. W. Longfellow
  2. Ode for July the Fourth by Philip Freneau
  3. American Independence by Benjamin Hine
  4. On Independence by Jonathan Mitchell Sewall

Poem Themes Related to the 4th of July

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

– Thomas Jefferson
The Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776

Poems About the Struggle for American Independence

  1. Paul Revere's Ride

    Paul Revere's Midnight Ride
    by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Paul Revere's heroic actions in the cause of American freedom were immortalized in this poem which recounts the story Paul Revere's midnight ride of April 18-19, 1775 to warn the Massachusetts countryside of the coming British invasion.

     Full Text

    Listen my children and you shall hear
    Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
    On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
    Hardly a man is now alive
    Who remembers that famous day and year.

    He said to his friend, "If the British march
    By land or sea from the town to-night,
    Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
    Of the North Church tower as a signal light,—
    One if by land, and two if by sea;
    And I on the opposite shore will be,
    Ready to ride and spread the alarm
    Through every Middlesex village and farm,
    For the country folk to be up and to arm."

    Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
    Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
    Just as the moon rose over the bay,
    Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
    The Somerset, British man-of-war;
    A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
    Across the moon like a prison bar,
    And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
    By its own reflection in the tide.

    Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
    Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
    Till in the silence around him he hears
    The muster of men at the barrack door,
    The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
    And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
    Marching down to their boats on the shore.

    Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
    By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
    To the belfry chamber overhead,
    And startled the pigeons from their perch
    On the sombre rafters, that round him made
    Masses and moving shapes of shade,—
    By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
    To the highest window in the wall,
    Where he paused to listen and look down
    A moment on the roofs of the town
    And the moonlight flowing over all.

    Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
    In their night encampment on the hill,
    Wrapped in silence so deep and still
    That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
    The watchful night-wind, as it went
    Creeping along from tent to tent,
    And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
    A moment only he feels the spell
    Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
    Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
    For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
    On a shadowy something far away,
    Where the river widens to meet the bay,—
    A line of black that bends and floats
    On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

    Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
    Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
    On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
    Now he patted his horse's side,
    Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
    Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
    And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
    But mostly he watched with eager search
    The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
    As it rose above the graves on the hill,
    Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
    And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
    A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
    He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
    But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
    A second lamp in the belfry burns.

    A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
    A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
    And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
    Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
    That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
    The fate of a nation was riding that night;
    And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
    Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
    He has left the village and mounted the steep,
    And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
    Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
    And under the alders that skirt its edge,
    Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
    Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

    It was twelve by the village clock
    When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
    He heard the crowing of the cock,
    And the barking of the farmer's dog,
    And felt the damp of the river fog,
    That rises after the sun goes down.

    It was one by the village clock,
    When he galloped into Lexington.
    He saw the gilded weathercock
    Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
    And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
    Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
    As if they already stood aghast
    At the bloody work they would look upon.

    It was two by the village clock,
    When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
    He heard the bleating of the flock,
    And the twitter of birds among the trees,
    And felt the breath of the morning breeze
    Blowing over the meadow brown.
    And one was safe and asleep in his bed
    Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
    Who that day would be lying dead,
    Pierced by a British musket ball.

    You know the rest. In the books you have read
    How the British Regulars fired and fled,—
    How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
    From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
    Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
    Then crossing the fields to emerge again
    Under the trees at the turn of the road,
    And only pausing to fire and load.

    So through the night rode Paul Revere;
    And so through the night went his cry of alarm
    To every Middlesex village and farm,—
    A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
    A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
    And a word that shall echo for evermore!
    For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
    Through all our history, to the last,
    In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
    The people will waken and listen to hear
    The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
    And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

    The eyes of all America are upon us. As we play our part posterity will bless or curse us.

    – Henry Knox, officer of the Continental Army
    written after the Declaration of Independence in 1776
  2. Concord Hymn

    The Shot Heard 'Round the World
    The Shot Heard 'Round the World
    by Domenick D'Andrea
    for the National Guard Heritage Series
    by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Sung at the Completion of the Battle Monument, July 4, 1837

     Full Text

    By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
    Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
    Here once the embattled farmers stood
    And fired the shot heard round the world.

    The foe long since in silence slept;
    Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
    And Time the ruined bridge has swept
    Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

    On this green bank, by this soft stream,
    We set today a votive stone;
    That memory may their deed redeem,
    When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

    Spirit, that made those heroes dare
    To die, and leave their children free,
    Bid Time and Nature gently spare
    The shaft we raise to them and thee.

  3. The Liberty Bell

    by E. S. Brooks


    Squarely prim and stoutly built,
    Free from glitter and from gilt,
    Plain,—from lintel up to roof-tree and to belfry bare and brown—

    Stands the Hall that hot July,—
    While the folk throng anxious by,—
    Where the Continental Congress meets within the Quaker town.

    Hark! a stir, a sudden shout,
    And a boy comes rushing out,
    Signaling to where his grandsire in the belfry, waiting, stands;—

    “Ring!” he cries; “the deed is done!
    Ring! they’ve signed, and freedom’s won!”
    And the ringer grasps the bell-rope with his strong and sturdy hands;

    While the bell, with joyous note
    Clanging from its brazen throat,
    Rings the tidings, all-exultant,—peals the news to shore and sea:

    “Man is man—a slave no longer;
    Truth and Right than Might are stronger,
    Praise to God! We’re free; we’re free!”

    Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.

    – 1 Corinthians 3:17b
  4. The Message of the Liberty Bell

    by Mrs. Elvira Robinson

     Full Text

    Around the congress with closed door
    Thousands of anxious people pour
    To wait till all suspense be o'er.

    And still above the bellman waits
    The slow decision of the fates,
    While fears depress and hope elates.

    "Passed, it has passed," at length they cry,
    Ten thousand glad mouths make reply,
    And send the echoes to the sky.

    "Ring! ring!" exclaims the watching boy;
    The bell responds with notes of joy.
    Freedom's proclaim its sweet employ.

    Loud and more loud the proud notes swell,
    The people's shouts responding well,
    All o'er the land the glad news tell.

    From sea to sea, from pole to pole,
    The echoes of that bell shall roll,
    Till freedom comes to every soul.

  5. The Veteran and the Child

    by Hannah Flagg Gould

    'Come, grandfather, show how you carried your gun
    To the field, where America's freedom was won,
    Or bore your old sword, which you say was new then,
    When you rose to command, and led forward your men;
    And tell how you felt with the balls whizzing by,
    Where the wounded fell round you, to bleed and to die!'

    The prattler had stirred, in the veteran's breast,
    The embers of fire that had long been at rest.
    The blood of his youth rushed anew through his veins;
    The soldier returned to his weary campaigns;
    His perilous battles at once fighting o'er,
    While the soul of nineteen lit the eye of four-score.

    "I carried my musket, as one that must be
    But loosed from the hold of the dead, or the free!
    And fearless I lifted my good, trusty sword,
    In the hand of a mortal, the strength of the Lord!
    In battle, my vital flame freely, I felt
    Should go, but the chains of my country to melt!"

    "I sprinkled my blood upon Lexington's sod,
    And Charlestown's green height to the war-drum I trod.
    From the fort, on the Hudson, our guns I depressed,
    The proud coming sail of the foe to arrest.
    I stood at Stillwater, the Lakes, and White Plains,
    And offered for freedom to empty my veins!"

    "Dost now ask me, child, since thou hear'st where I've been,
    Why my brow is so furrowed, my locks white and thin--
    Why this faded eye cannot go by the line,
    Trace out little beauties, and sparkle like thine;
    Or why so unstable his tremulous knee,
    Who bore 'sixty years since,' such perils for thee?"

    "What! sobbing so quick? are the tears going to start?
    Come! lean thy young head on thy grandfather's heart!
    It has not much longer to glow with the joy
    I feel thus to clasp thee, so noble a boy!
    But when in earth's bosom it long has been cold,
    A man, thou 'lt recall, what, a babe, thou art told."

  6. Poems About Independence Day Celebration

  7. Independence Day

    First Flight of Old Glory
    by Mary M. North

    We celebrate a "day of days,"
    Which saw a nation rise
    Through din of battle, clash of arms,
    And severed kindred ties.
    This day we draw aside the veil,
    And backward take a look
    On stirring scenes, brought to our view,
    As in an open book.

    We see the lights in "old North Church"—
    Those beacons burning bright—
    And gallop on with Paul Revere,
    Throughout that fateful night.
    We fight with men at Bunker Hill,
    Whose aim was good and true—
    Nerved to the task by loyal hearts,
    'Neath coats of buff and blue.

    With praying Washington we wait
    At Valley Forge, in snow and sleet,
    And see the blood-prints on the ground
    From shoeless soldiers' feet.
    With thin-clad, shiv'ring, dauntless men
    We cross the Delaware
    To meet the foe and capture them,
    And untold perils dare.

    We rise with those patriots brave,
    When they their names affix
    To the "Declaration" broad and grand,
    Of Seventeen Seventy-six.
    As liberty loud it proclaims,
    We hear the tones of the bell,
    While echoing valley, hill and glen
    The message to nations tell.

    * * * *

    And so each year we celebrate
    This day, so dear to all,
    When a Nation to new life awoke,
    At Freedom's earnest call.

  8. Independence Day

    by John Henton Carter

    Bring forth the pyrotechnics, let the deepmouthed cannon speak,
    The eagle rouse and lift his wings and soar from sun-lit peak;
    The banners wave, the kettle-drums ring out, the brass bands play,
    While all join hands and celebrate our Independence Day.

    All men are equal in our land, no titled rank have we;
    We bow to no superior—to none we bend the knee;
    Each one a part of one great whole, to harmony designed
    And relegated like the spheres, to orbits well defined.

    Our mission is the conquest of the passions, not of lands;
    To cultivate the conscience and restrain uplifted hands;
    To teach the world that honor is God's greatest gift, not gold,
    And hoarded wealth and idleness breed evils unforetold.

    This is the day we celebrate, and this the end we seek:
    To hold rapacity in check and stimulate the weak,
    Till in good time, as one fair field of ripening grain, we show
    Where every struggling stem has had an equal chance to grow.

  9. Military Song for the Fourth

    by Unknown

    Is there a heart forgets the day
    That first proclaimed us free!
    Can time erase the brilliant page,
    That star of memory!

    No whilst one drop shall warm our veins,
    We'll guard the sacred trust;
    In us shall freedom find a friend,
    An altar in each breast.

    The martyr'd sons of liberty
    In every heart shall dwell,
    Their laurels now as freshly bloom
    As in the hour they fell.

    The jubilee of freemen hail
    In honor of their worth:
    Though care assail us all the year,
    To joy we'll give the Fourth.

  10. Anthem for the Fourth of July

    by Anonymous

    On this auspicious Day,
    Freemen, thy homage pay,
    The king of kings.
    Ancient of endless days,
    Above all creature praise,
    To Him loud Anthems raise,
    On Freedom's wings.
    Our favor'd land afar,
    The world's bright morning star,
    Shines in the West.
    It's light shall still increase,
    Till Liberty and peace,
    Expand, and never cease
    To make men blest,
    Justice and equal laws
    Maintain the sacred course
    Columbia boasts,
    Freedom's our magic word,
    The rights of man our sword,
    Our banner is the Lord,
    The Lord of hosts.

  11. Centennial

    by S. Theresa Wason

    Our fathers' God to Thee,
    Enthroned in majesty
    We humbly bow;
    To thank Thee that this day
    Recalls our childhood's way,
    Brings loved ones, far away,
    To meet us now.

    We'll lay aside our creeds,
    And will our fathers' deeds
    With marshaled hosts array,
    And music's grand display,
    Our anniversary day
    We'll celebrate.

    'Twas our centennial sires,
    Who kindled here the fires
    Of peaceful homes;
    That noble race of men,
    Of serling worth undim'd,
    We'll love and honor them
    While here we roam.

    Their many virtues shine,
    More bright as passing time
    Bears us along;
    And when life's dreams are o'er,
    We'll walk the "Shining shore,"
    And join them gone before,
    In endless song.

  12. It is a noble cause we are engaged in. It is the cause of virtue and mankind.

    – George Washington
    General Orders for February 27, 1776
  13. Independence Day—1919

    by Margaret E. Sangster

    Over the mists of a century they come, and their tramping feet
    Are light as the dust on the broad highway, or the wind that sways in the wheat;
    Out of the haze of the years between their shadowy hands stretch wide
    To welcome the heroes home again who have fought for their cause and died.

    They went to battle at Concord Bridge, and they fell on Bunker Hill;
    The odds were great, but they struggled on with a stubborn Yankee will;
    They lay in the fields at Lexington when the sun in the west was red,
    And the next year's violets grew on the spot where their valiant blood was shed.

    But they won in the end—with their broken guns and without much food to spare,
    Won at the end of a bitter war, by means that they knew were fair;
    And some of them wandered back to their plows, and some lay wrapped in the loam,
    And slept the sleep of the fearless heart that has fought at home—for home!

    Fought for their homes, at home, they did—but these other boys today
    Fought for the homes of stranger folk three thousand miles away;
    Fought for the honor of the world, and were not afraid to die
    In a muddy trench, in a foreign land, and under a foreign sky!

    They fought on the Marne, at Belleau Wood; they swept through the mad Argonne;
    Chateau-Thierry was theirs to take; they took it and then surged on;
    And now that the fight they fought is won, though they lie in a far-olf grave,
    Their souls come back to the land they loved—the land that they left to save.

    And so, through the damp of the sorry sea, through the wreck of the shell-torn plain,
    They are coming back to homes they loved—they are coming back again!
    And light as the wind that sways in the wheat, or the dust on the broad highway,
    They march to their rendezvous with the ones who died in the yesterday.

  14. Liberty Bell

    by J. P. Dunn

    Ring on, ring on sweet Liberty Bell
    For peace on earth, good will to men.
    A story true, ye kindly tell,
    From Bunker Hill down to Argonne.

    Ring on, ring on sweet Liberty Bell
    In every clime where freedom dwells
    Your sweetest strains and imparting knells
    On New Year's eve was heard again.

    Ring on, ring on sweet Liberty Bell
    Peal after peal, your music swell
    Beneath the blue the white and red
    That waves so proudly today o'er the living
    And so sacredly o'er the dead.

  15. Fourth of July Ode

    by James Russell Lowell

    Our fathers fought for Liberty,
    They struggled long and well,
    History of their deeds can tell—
    But did they leave us free?

    Are we free from vanity,
    Free from pride, and free from self,
    Free from love of power and pelf,
    From everything that's beggarly?

    Are we free from stubborn will,
    From low hate and malice small,
    From opinion's tyrant thrall?
    Are none of us our own slaves still?

    Are we free to speak our thought,
    To be happy, and be poor,
    Free to enter Heaven's door,
    To live and labor as we ought?

    Are we then made free at last
    From the fear of what men say,
    Free to reverence today,
    Free from the slavery of the Past?

    Our fathers fought for liberty,
    They struggled long and well,
    History of their deeds can tell—
    But ourselves must set us free.

  16. The Fourth of July

    by John Pierpont

    Day of glory! Welcome day!
    Freedom's banners greet thy ray;
    See! how cheerfully they play
    With thy morning breeze,
    On the rocks where pilgrims kneeled,
    On the heights where squadrons wheeled,
    When a tyrant's thunder pealed
    O'er the trembling seas.

    God of armies! did thy stars
    On their courses smite his cars;
    Blast his arm, and wrest his bars
    From the heaving tide?
    On our standard, lo! they burn,
    And, when days like this return,
    Sparkle o'er the soldier's urn
    Who for freedom died.

    God of peace! whose spirit fills
    All the echoes of our hills,
    All the murmur of our rills,
    Now the storm is o'er,
    O let freemen be our sons,
    And let future Washingtons
    Rise, to lead their valiant ones
    Till there's war no more!

  17. Ode on the 4th July

    by Unknown

    All hail! to the day, when from anarchy free,
    Our fathers asserted the rights of the brave,
    And sent this decree o'er the wide rolling sea,
    "The home of the valiant shall yet be his grave."

    When the myriads of Britain overshadow'd the land,
    Then first was discover'd our forefathers' glory;
    Then arose, simultaneous! the patriot band,
    Whose deeds shall forever be mingled in story.

    Ye youths of Columbia! let time not impair
    The deeds which from sire to son have descended:
    But if tyrants invade you, in unity swear
    Their spirit still lives tho' with earth they are blended.

    While the Fourth of July shall be sacred to mirth,
    May the name of our Washington dwell on each tongue--
    His fame kindle glory--his virtues give birth
    To acts which to nations unborn, shall be sung.

  18. On the Anniversary of the Independence of the United States

    by Unknown

    Let the poets of Europe write odes on their king
    Or their musical notes raise so high,
    The birth-day of freedom we ever will sing
    And rejoice on the Fourth of July.

    No proud, haughty monarch can here bear the sway
    Since tyranny now we defy;
    Fair liberty ushers this joyful glad day,
    And proclaims ’tis the Fourth of July.

    May Columbians united, preserve and protect
    The blessings on which they rely,
    Nor with shameful indifference ever neglect
    To remember the Fourth of July.

    This day be it sacred to freedom and peace,
    Festivity, friendship and joy;
    May our land in prosperity ever encrease
    And be bles’d on the Fourth of July.

  19. Ode for July the Fourth

    by Philip Freneau

    Once more, our annual debt to pay,
    We meet on this auspicious day
    That will, through every coming age,
    Columbia's patriot sons engage.

    From this fair day we date the birth,
    Of freedom's reign, restored to earth,
    And millions learn, too long depraved,
    How to be govern'd, not enslaved.

    Thou source of every true delight
    Fair peace, extend thy sway,
    While to thy temple we invite
    All nations on this day.

    O dire effects of tyrant power!
    How have ye darken'd every hour,
    And made those hours embitter'd flow
    That nature meant for joys below.

    With sceptred pride, and brow of awe
    Oppression gave the world her law,
    And man, who should such law disdain,
    Resign'd to her malignant reign.

    Here on our quiet native coast
    No more we dread the warring host
    That once alarm'd, when Britain rose,
    And made Columbia's sons her foes.

    Parent of every cruel art
    That stains the soul, that steels the heart,
    Fierce war, with all thy bleeding band,
    Molest no more this rising land.

    May thy loud din be changed for peace,
    All human woe and warfare cease,
    And nations sheath the sword again
    To find a long, pacific reign.

    Soon may all tyrants disappear
    And man to man be less severe;
    The ties of love more firmly bind,
    Not fetters, that enchain mankind.

    But virtue must her strength maintain,
    Or short, too short, is freedom's reign,
    And, if her precepts we despise,
    Tyrants and kings again will rise.

    No more an angry, plundering race,
    May man in every clime embrace,
    And we on this remoter shore,
    Exult in bloody wars no more.

    On this returning annual day
    May we to heaven our homage pay,
    Happy, that here the time's began
    That made mankind the friend of man!—

  20. American Independence

    by Benjamin Hine

    Hail, hail, once more, the annual morn
    Of that great day, on which were born
    Thousands to freedom, who declare,
    Or liberty or death to share.

    Though ages since had rolled away,
    Yet we would ne er forget the day,
    Nor cease to sing its deeds sublime,
    And hand them down to latest time.

    When tyrant hordes in dread array,
    Along our coasts and harbours lay,
    Threat'ning destruction, fire, and sword,
    To all who disobey their word;

    'Twas then the souls of men were tried,
    'Twas then the sons of freedom cried,
    With voice united, we declare,
    Or liberty or death to share.

    Then, instant a heroic band
    Stood forth their country to defend,
    They fought, they bled, but victory won,
    And purchased with their lives a crown

    A crown of glory, which shall last
    Till time's remotest periods past;
    Then shall their names unsullied rise,
    And live immortal in the skies.

    Ho, all you veterans still alive,
    All you who fought, but did survive
    Your many, many brethren slain,
    Their country's freedom to maintain,

    Come, teach your children as they grow,—
    Yes, early teach them all to know
    The laurels by a Franklin won,
    And all the deeds of Washington.

    Inspire them with a holy flame,
    With liberty's endearing name,
    That when you to the grave descend,
    Her sacred cause they may defend.

    Instruct them oftentimes to turn
    Th' historic page that they may learn
    The grand achievements you have wrought,
    The blessings which for them you bought.

    Then shall they oft recall your name,
    With rapture oft rehearse your fame,
    And cause your virtues to descend
    From sire to son, till time shall end.

    Long, long shall they revere the day,
    When ages hence have rolled away,
    On which their fathers did declare,
    Or liberty or death to share.

  21. On Independence

    by Jonathan Mitchell Sewall

    Come all you brave soldiers, both valiant and free,
    It's for Independence we all now agree;
    Let us gird on our swords and prepare to defend
    Our liberty, property, ourselves and our friends.

    In a cause that's so righteous, come let us agree,
    And from hostile invaders set America free,
    The cause is so glorious we need not to fear
    But from merciless tyrants we'll set ourselves clear.

    Heaven's blessing attending us, no tyrant shall say
    That Americans e'er to such monsters gave way,
    But fighting we'll die in America's cause
    Before we'll submit to tyrannical laws.

    George the Third, of Great Britain, no more shall he reign,
    With unlimited sway o'er these free States again;
    Lord North, nor old Bute, nor none of their clan,
    Shall ever be honor'd by an American.

    May Heaven's blessing descend on our United States,
    And grant that the union may never abate;
    May love, peace, and harmony ever be found,
    For to go hand in hand America round.

    Upon our grand Congress may Heaven bestow
    Both wisdom and skill our good to pursue;
    On Heaven alone dependent we'll be.
    But from all earthly tyrants we mean to be free.

    Unto our brave Generals may Heaven give skill
    Our armies to guide, and the sword for to wield,
    May their hands taught to war, and their fingers to fight,
    Be able to put British armies to flight.

    And now, brave Americans, since it is so,
    That we are independent, we'll have them to know
    That united we are, and united we'll be,
    And from all British tyrants we'll try to keep free.

    May Heaven smile on us in all our endeavors,
    Safe guard our seaports, our towns, and our rivers,
    Keep us from invaders by land and by sea,
    And from all who'd deprive us of our liberty.

  22. The Old Fashioned Fourth

    by Charles Frederick Wadsworth

    What has become of the old-fashioned Fourth, and the picnic they held in the woods?—
    Where the kids fired their crackers and drank lemonade and invested in prize-package goods?
    Where is the old-fashioned merry-go-round with a horse in the center for power?—
    And the swains and their sweethearts who sat in the "scrapers" and courted and rode by the hour?
    What has become of the horses and buggies lined up at the fence in a row?—
    And where are the whips the men carried in hand, and where did the lap-dusters go?
    Where is the old-fashioned hamper containing the fried chicken, pickles and cake?—
    The white bread home-made and the cherry bounce, and the jam that they used to make?
    Where are the two-for-5-cents cigars that we got by pitching a ring
    At a knife or a peg set up in a board? .... Where's everything?

We must never lose sight of the goodness of our cause. Difficulties are not insurmountable. Perseverance and spirit have done wonders in all ages.

– George Washington

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