Mount Vernon
Inscribed to the “southern matron.”
By a lady of Philadelphia.
Let no rude steps those precincts fair invade
Where our immortal Washington is laid –
No purpose ruth assail that hallowed soil,
Where rests the noble hero from his toil,
But let it be our country’s treasured shrine
Sacred as erst were those in Palestine.
Our country! Oh! what thrilling memories rise,
As backward o’er the past I sweep my eyes!
Here in these streets, how often he hath trod,
Who conquered foemen by the help of God!
Here through these very streets, with pennons fair
While strains of martial music filled the air,
He led his soldiers to the battle plain,
Where hurtling shots fell round him like the rain,
And warriors dropped like leaves in Autumn time
When blighting winds sweep through our genial
clime.
Ah those were days when hearts were true and brave!
There are such now’ they gather round the grave,
Where sleeps the hero, sage and Christian just,
Seeking with pious care to guard his dust.
Let all unite – let no ungrateful heart,
Refuse to bear at least an humble part.
Is there not room throughout our land so wide –
From the Pacific, to the Atlantic’s tide –
From the far rising to the setting sun,
To leave untouched the home of Washington!
Or is it gold ye need? Go ask for gold!
A grateful nation with its wealth untold,
Will pour its lavish sums, as once poured blood
To gain our freedom on this favored sod,
Then ever sacred to the patriot’s bier,
We’ll hold the Mecca which we all revere.
