Ii

Old Cambridge saw thee first unfurled, By Washington's far-reaching hand, To greet, in Seventy-six, the wintry morn Of a new year, and herald to the world Glad tidings from a Western land,-- A people and a hope new-born! The double cross then filled thine azure field, In token of a spirit loath to yield The breaking ties that bound thee to a throne. But not for long thine oriflamme could bear That symbol of an outworn trust in kings. The wind that bore thee out on widening wings Called for a greater sign and all thine own,-- A new device to speak of heavenly laws And lights that surely guide the people's cause. Oh, greatly did they hope, and greatly dare, Who bade the stars in heaven fight for them, And set upon their battle-flag a fair New constellation as a diadem! Along the blood-stained banks of Brandywine The ragged troops were rallied to this sign; Through Saratoga's woods it fluttered bright Amid the perils of the hard-won fight; O'er Yorktown's meadows broad and green It hailed the glory of the final scene; And when at length Manhattan saw The last invaders' line of scarlet coats Pass Bowling Green, and fill the waiting boats And sullenly withdraw, The flag that proudly flew Above the battered line of buff and blue, Marching, with rattling drums and shrilling pipes, Along the Bowery and down Broadway, Was this that leads the great parade to-day,-- The glorious banner of the stars and stripes.

First of the flags of earth to dare A heraldry so high; First of the flags of earth to bear The blazons of the sky; Long may thy constellation glow, Foretelling happy fate; Wider thy starry circle grow, And every star a State!