BY THE RUDE BRIDGE


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.

The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept 
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

On this green bank, by this soft stream, 
We set today a votive stone;
That memory may their deed redeem, 
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

Spirit that made those heroes dare 
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare 
The shaft we raise to them and thee.

~Ralph Waldo Emerson