Posted on 07/29/2005 8:33:47 AM PDT by RenaissanceNerd
The Bright Shield
The shining city ‘pon a hill, Hath ne’er possessed a stony wall, Not thorny dike or earthen mound, Defends her from the fall.
Within the city course the crowds, Commerce drives them most, Hardly knowing that without, Barbarians lurk in hosts.
There is no city gate to break, The moat is easily crossed, And north and south lay trackless lands, Of desert heat or frost.
Who keeps that city bright and free? Who guards her from her foes? Who keeps her people far from fear? Who into danger goes?
Young they are, of either sex, True and bright and brave, In colors blue and green and white, They shining city save.
A banner flies of stripes and stars, Above their high-held heads, Victory they only give, Upon our foes they tread.
And we who in the city fair, Spend our lives for gain, Safe behind that youthful shield, Some dare to them distain.
They march a tiny few against, A million screams of hate, Behind the daggers sharpen some, And wish them gruesome fate.
But most do not and never will, Forget their courage rare, Most for them feel only love, With thanks owed just and fair.
But more than grateful crowd behind, Beside them also stands, Ghosts who gave the gift supreme, A spirit army grand.
Forget not their honor, Never let them want, Never let them doubt our love, And fear will ne’er us daunt.
The city shining ‘pon the hill, Needs not a steely door, Nor thorny dike or creneled wall, Her shield is made from more.
Of flesh and blood her shield is built, Of valiant hearts and minds, She is safe within their hands, As future bright unwinds.
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