To My Son.are you: A line of battle fading down the years, To the far rim of memory, where loom Heroic shapes against oblivion. For you a thousand generations wrought 'Gainst ancient wrongs, and grap- pled with beliefs, They wrested freedom from both kings and gods And forged the pattern of a fear- less soul. You are the newest blossom of the race, You are the sum of all the eons gone, You are the travail and the sacrifice Of countless lives that were, and now are you. __Elizabeth N. Barr. |
The High Winds of Home
Elizabeth N. Barr
(Olathe: privately published. 1922)
Page 13
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