Nation and Patriotism

Open my heart, and you will see Graved inside of it, “Italy.”

“Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country’s flag,” she said.

The fate of a nation was riding that night.

One if by land, and two if by sea; 1 And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm.

Listen, my children, and you shall hear, Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year.

Sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O Union, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate!

By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world.

Not so Leonidas and Washington, Whose every battlefield is holy ground, Which breathes of nations saved, not worlds undone.

The mountains look on Marathon, And Marathon looks on the sea; And musing there an hour alone, I dreamed that Greece might still be free.

The Cincinnatus of the West, Whom envy dared not hate, Bequeathed the name of Washington To make man blush there was but one!

“While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand; When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall; And when Rome falls—the world.” 5

O Rome! my country! city of the soul!

Millions of tongues record thee, and anew Their children’s lips shall echo them, and say— “Here, where the sword united nations drew, Our countrymen were warring on that day!” And this is much, and all which will not pass away. 4

Stood for his country’s glory fast, And nail’d her colors to the mast!

O Caledonia! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood; Land of the mountain and the flood!

We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.

Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters.

Once did she hold the gorgeous east in fee: And was the safeguard of the west.

I traveled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea; Nor, England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee.

It’s guid to be merry and wise, It’s guid to be honest and true, It’s guid to support Caledonia’s cause And bide by the buff and the blue.

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The birthplace of valor, the country of worth! Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here, My heart’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, My heart’s in the Highlands wherever I go.

It was a’ for our rightfu’ King We left fair Scotland’s strand.

From scenes like these, old Scotia’s grandeur springs, That makes her loved at home, revered abroad: Princes and lords are but the breath of kings, “An honest man’s the noblest work of God.”