At Williamsburg

There is a place
Where quiet streets
And verdant scenes
Refresh the soul
And calm the mind.
There is a place
Where brick-laid paths
And cobbled streets
Were trodden smooth
With patriots’ soles
That would not know defeat.
There is a place
Where once a man
Stood up and said,
"Give me liberty -
Or give me death!"
There is a place
Where “Young Hot Colts”
Met [at] night, upstairs "in secret"
At famed Raleigh Tavern
To plot and plan
Our revolution
And nation’s birth.
There is a place
Where dogwood lace
And velvet bark
Bedeck the greens
Of early Spring.
There is a place
Where we may stroll
Where founding fathers
Walked and thought
As studious boys
At our first grand college.
There is a place
Where candlelight
At Christmas time
Glows gently on
The soft, still snow
From one bright flame
In every window.
There is a place
Where we once stood
Amidst the dreams
Of patriots’ minds.
For as they thought
And sought, and fought
To make a colony a country.
There is a place
There was a time
When patriots met
Come Sunday morn
To knell and pray
For guided strength
To plan the way.
There is a place
Where now we stand
In complex strength
And tottering faith -
Might it be time
To re-consider -
What buoyed our verve
At Williamsburg?

Copyright © 1968 Annette L. Strang-Walley. All right reserved.

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