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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472422" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>For The Fair In Aid Of The Fund To Procure Ball’s Statue Of Washington</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472422" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">1630</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472422" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">ALL overgrown with bush and fern,<br>And straggling clumps of tangled trees,<br>With trunks that lean and boughs that turn,<br>Bent eastward by the mastering breeze,--<br>With spongy bogs that drip and fill<br>A yellow pond with muddy rain,<br>Beneath the shaggy southern hill<br>Lies wet and low the Shawinut plain.<br>And hark! the trodden branches crack;<br>A crow flaps off with startled scream;<br>A straying woodchuck canters back;<br>A bittern rises from the stream;<br>Leaps from his lair a frightened deer;<br>An otter plunges in the pool;--<br>Here comes old Shawmut's pioneer,<br>The parson on his brindled bull!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472422" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>1774</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472422" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The streets are thronged with trampling feet,<br>The northern hill is ridged with graves,<br>But night and morn the drum is beat<br>To frighten down the 'rebel knaves.'<br>The stones of King Street still are red,<br>And yet the bloody red-coats come<br>I hear their pacing sentry's tread,<br>The click of steel, the tap of drum,<br>And over all the open green,<br>Where grazed of late the harmless kine,<br>The cannon's deepening ruts are seen,<br>The war-horse stamps, the bayonets shine.<br>The clouds are dark with crimson rain<br>Above the murderous hirelings' den,<br>And soon their whistling showers shall stain<br>The pipe-clayed belts of Gage's men.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472422" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>186-</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472422" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Around the green, in morning light,<br>The spired and palaced summits blaze,<br>And, sunlike, from her Beacon-height<br>The dome-crowned city spreads her rays;<br>They span the waves, they belt the plains,<br>They skirt the roads with bands of white,<br>Till with a flash of gilded panes<br>Yon farthest hillside bounds the sight.<br>Peace, Freedom, Wealth! no fairer view,<br>Though with the wild-bird's restless wings<br>We sailed beneath the noontide's blue<br>Or chased the moonlight's endless rings!<br>Here, fitly raised by grateful hands<br>His holiest memory to recall,<br>The Hero's, Patriot's image stands;<br>He led our sires who won them all!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</a></strong></div>