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Posts Tagged ‘Bunker Hill’

“Sic transit gloria mundi,”
“How doth the busy bee,”
“Dum vivimus vivamus,”
I stay mine enemy!

Oh “veni, vidi, vici!”
Oh caput cap-a-pie!
And oh “memento mori”
When I am far from thee!

Hurrah for Peter Parley!
Hurrah for Daniel Boone!
Three cheers, sir, for the gentleman
Who first observed the moon!

Peter, put up the sunshine;
Patti, arrange the stars;
Tell Luna, tea is waiting,
And call your brother Mars!

Put down the apple, Adam,
And come away with me,
So shalt thou have a pippin
From off my father’s tree!

I climb the “Hill of Science,”
I “view the landscape o’er;”
Such transcendental prospect,
I ne’er beheld before!

Unto the Legislature
My country bids me go;
I’ll take my india rubbers,
In case the wind should blow!

During my education,
It was announced to me
That gravitation, stumbling,
Fell from an apple tree!

The earth upon an axis
Was once supposed to turn,
By way of a gymnastic
In honor of the sun!

It was the brave Columbus,
A sailing o’er the tide,
Who notified the nations
Of where I would reside!

Mortality is fatal –
Gentility is fine,
Rascality, heroic,
Insolvency, sublime!

Our Fathers being weary,
Laid down on Bunker Hill;
And tho’ full many a morning,
Yet they are sleeping still, –

The trumpet, sir, shall wake them,
In dreams I see them rise,
Each with a solemn musket
A marching to the skies!

A coward will remain, Sir,
Until the fight is done;
But an immortal hero
Will take his hat, and run!

Good bye, Sir, I am going;
My country calleth me;
Allow me, Sir, at parting,
To wipe my weeping e’e.

In token of our friendship
Accept this “Bonnie Doon,”
And when the hand that plucked it
Hath passed beyond the moon,

The memory of my ashes
Will consolation be
Then, farewell, Tuscarora,
And farewell, Sir, to thee!

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Like sleeper, from a hammock, rude removed from resting place,
I soon was seeking solace in a soothing shaded grace,
An old continued pastime that would comfort in my change
As I returned to my hometown from years upon the range.

Along the street I parked my car, that bright December day
And up the steps I slowly went, a snail, unsure the way
For memory did not connect the steps with aging feet;
What lay inside before my goal – a meeting room, a suite?

Ah, yes! There was a difference, and more I did not know;
Two workers now, a desk was changed, computer all aglow;
And still the place, besides the new, had feel of antique, old –
The walls were pillared and the floors had tales that could be told.

Before the books, just like the brooks, there was a bridge – a card.
So, up to worker’s desk I went, as if she were a guard.
I told her what I needed – just a key to reading’s door.
And she replied, “Have you, with us, e’er had a card before?”

   When I was lad, my summers were
       A time from town retreating,
   To parents’ farm ten miles away –
       Cows mooing and sheep bleating.

   I lived there almost like a monk,
       Away from friends I cherished;
   No next-door neighbor like in town –
       My social life near perished.        

   I found another set of friends;
       They came each time invited.
   I felt as honored as if I’d
       Been called to court and knighted.

   And so my summer days were filled –
       Companions and adventure.
   They came those days; they quickly left,
       Like teachers without tenure.

   With Nancy Drew, I looked by lake
       For clue of broken locket.*
   We searched an attic old as dust
       For songs played out of pocket.**

   The Hardy boys came some days
       Both Frank and Joe – detectives.
   Of course, we all were given help
       By their Dad’s wise directives.            

     Some summer days were twice the fun
       And more than twice – twice doubled
     For Flossie, Freddie, Bert, and Nan
       Were Bobbsey twins that bubbled.

     And then some days I left the farm
       (My parents didn’t know it).
     The time machine sat by my bed
       Into the past, I rode it.

     To Tuskegee and Carver’s lab,
       I flew, launched by the pages;
    And with Von Braun, I moved toward space
       And gazed at rocket’s gauges.       

     I looked, while perched on Bunker Hill
         And saw the redcoats coming
     As thick as ants to claim a mound,
         An army marched by drumming.

   I saw defeat at Waterloo,
         With Lindbergh crossed the ocean;
     With Alexander, conquered worlds,
         With leopard’s swiftest motion.

I’m back. You asked about a card. My old one’s thrown away.
I used it for so long and oft, was worn out like cliché.
I did; I had one here; I doubt it’s in your records though –
Unless you have the registers for fifty years ago.

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* ND   The Clue of the Broken Locket, 1934

** ND   The Secret in the Old Attic, 1944

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The photo is mine, of Carnegie Library in Ballinger, Texas.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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