Song Composed for Washington's Birthday,

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.