University of Virginia Library

1  Give me your hand, old Revolutionary;
The hill-top is nigh — but a few steps, (make room,      gentlemen;)
Up the path you have follow'd me well, spite of your      hundred and extra years;
You can walk, old man, though your eyes are almost      done;
Your faculties serve yon, and presently I must have      them serve me.
2  Rest, while I tell what the crowd around us means;
On the plain below, recruits are drilling and exercising;
There is the camp — one regiment departs to morrow;
Do you hear the officers giving the orders?
Do you hear the clank of the muskets?
3  Why, what comes over you now, old man?
Why do you tremble, and clutch my hand so convul-     sively?
The troops are but drilling — they are yet surrounded      with smiles;
Around them at hand, the well drest friends and the      women;
While splendid and warm the afternoon sun shines      down;
Green the midsummer verdure, and fresh blows the dal-     lying breeze,
O'er proud and peaceful cities, and arm of the sea be-     tween.
4  But drill and parade are over — they march back to      quarters;
Only hear that approval of hands! hear what a clap-     ping!
5  As wending, the crowds now part and disperse — but      we, old man,
Not for nothing have I brought you hither — we must      remain;
You to speak in your turn, and I to listen and tell.