Today is George’s REAL birthday as opposed to that amalgamation of a President’s Day that we celebrated a week or two ago. So I thought you might enjoy a couple of selections of Washingtonian poetry:
From James Russell Lowell:
“Dumb for himself, unless it were to God,
But for his barefoot soldiers eloquent,
Tramping the snow to coral where they trod,
Held by his awe in hollow-eyed content;
Modest, yet firm as Nature’s self; unblamed
Save by the men his nobler shamed;
Not honored then or now because he wooed
The popular voice, but that he still withstood;
Broad-minded, higher-souled; there is but one
Who was all this, and ours, and all men’s,
Washington.”
By John Greenleaf Whittier:
“Thank God! the people’s choice was just,
The one man equal to his trust,
Wise beyond lore, and without weakness, good,
Calm in the strength of fearless rectitude.
His rule of justice, order, peace,
Made possible the world’s release;
Taught prince and serf that power is but a trust,
And rule, alone, that serves the ruled, is just,
That Freedom generous is, but strong
In hate of fraud and selfish wrong.
To accompany the famous picture of Washington Crossing the Delaware by Emmanuel Gottleib Leutze, here’s a set of words to the tune of “Yankee Doodle”, author anonymous, found in my book, The Year’s Entertainments, compiled and selected by Inez McAfee:
Washington’s Christmas Party
Come, all who love a merry tale
With joke both true and hearty,
We’ll tell you how George Washington
Once made a Christmas party.
Across the Delaware quite plain
The British flag was vaunted,
His troops ill-clad, the weather bad
And yet he was undaunted.
“Come boys,” he said, “we’ll go tonight
Across the raging river;
The troops will be at Christmas sports
And will suspect it never,
The Hessians all will keep this night
With games and feasting hearty;
We’ll spoil their fun with sword and gun,
And take their Christmas party.”
And so they row across the stream,
Though storms and foe pursue them,
The fishermen from Marblehead
Knew just how to go through them.
Upon the farther shore they form
And then surround the city,
The Hessians all after their ball
Were sleeping, what a pity.
And when at last at call, to arms!
They tried to make a stand, sir,
They soon took fright and grounded arms
To Washington’s small band, sir.
Across the stream they took that day,
One thousand Hessians hearty,
Their fun was spoiled, their tempers roiled,
By this famous Christmas party.
Finally, here’s a link to my favorite Washington poem, a poem I posted a few years ago, Leetla Giorgio Washeenton by Thomas Daly.
