Horizontal Navigation Bar w/Rollover Effect

~ Independence Day Poems ~

Page 2


~ Independence Day Poems - Celebrating Our Freedom ~


Independence Day Poems Page Link Buttons

Link To Page One

Link To Page Two

Link To Page Three

Link To Page Four

Link To Page Five

A NATION'S STRENGTH
By Ralph Waldo Emerson
 
What makes a nation’s pillars high
And its foundations strong?
What makes it mighty to defy
The foes that round it throng?

It is not gold. Its kingdoms grand
Go down in battle shock;
Its shafts are laid on sinking sand,
Not on abiding rock.

Is it the sword? Ask the red dust
Of empires passed away;
The blood has turned their stones to rust,
Their glory to decay.

And is it pride? Ah, that bright crown
Has seemed to nations sweet;
But God has struck its luster down
In ashes at his feet.

Not gold but only men can make
A people great and strong;
Men who for truth and honor’s sake
Stand fast and suffer long.

Brave men who work while others sleep,
Who dare while others fly...
They build a nation’s pillars deep
And lift them to the sky.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


PAUL REVERE’S RIDE
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
 
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.
He said to his friend, ‘If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,—
One, if by land, and two, if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm.’

Then he said, ‘Good-night!’ and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street,
Wanders and watches with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry-chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,—
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town,
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night-encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel’s tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, ‘All is well!’
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,—
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse’s side,
Now gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle-girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry-tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry’s height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns!

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.
It was twelve by the village clock,
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer’s dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadows brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed.
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket-ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read,
How the British Regulars fired and fled,—
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farm-yard wall,
Chasing the red-coats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,—
A cry of defiance and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door
And a word that shall echo forevermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


4th OF JULY
by David Todd

As the sun begins to set
The children become antsy
To hear the crackle, sizzle and pop And see something fancy...
It's that time of year for family fun and frolic
With warm summer days and of course something alcoholic...
As we celebrate this fourth
Viewing spectacular shows in the sky
Lets not forget that its
Independence Day
Independence
Lets not give it away,
Don't let Freedom die.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY
by Kim Robin Edwards

Blow up them firecrackers.
Light up the sky.
Because it's Happy Independence Day.
I've been meaning to say..

Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happ..
Happy Independence Day, Happy Independence Day.
Happy Independence Day.Happy Independence Day.

Sparklers glowing.Stars and stripes showing.
Nothing but happy people.Celebrating the Fourth Of July.
The birth of our country.The birth of our flag.
Because our founding fathers.Always wanted it this way.

Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happ..
Happy Independence Day.Happy Independence Day.
Happy Independence Day.Happy Independence Day.

Fifty stars and thirteen stripes.
The flag still flies.The American way.
Old Glory's the name.Old Glory's the same.
Join with the crowd, for the American dream.

So blow up them firecrackers.
Light up the sky.
Because it's Happy Independence Day.
I've been meaning to say.

Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happ..
Happy Independence Day.Happy Independence Day.
Happy Independence Day.Happy Independence Day.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


OUR INDEPENDENCE DAY
by Shujaat Hussain

15 August brings joy of the world
It dispels sorrow, slavery and darkness
We feel freedom, peace and happiness
We celebrate it with pomp and show
Every citizen gets equal right
Make them read and write
Be an enlightened citizen
Become a noble civilian
Protection of their lives top priority
Contribute to the nation
Be twinkling of the eyes of the society
Move step together
Take hand each other
Join heart to heart
Acquire knowledge, learn fun
Irrigate motherland with sweat
Whether we are Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian or else
All are Indians
All are human beings
India is of all; for all
Live together; love all


~ Independence Day Poems ~


HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY
by Anie Vans

The fourth of July
is independence day,
and festivities
are well under way.
Picnics and barbeques
fireworks and all,
people are geared
to have a ball.
And so my friend,
a happy fourth to you.
And may yours be
a safe one too.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


I AM OLD GLORY
by Percy Webb

I Am Old Glory:   For more than ten score years I have been the
banner of hope and freedom for generation after generation of Americans.
   
Born amid the first flames of America's fight for freedom,
I am the symbol of a country that has grown from a little group
of thirteen colonies to a united nation of fifty sovereign states.
  
Planted firmly on the high pinnacle of American Faith
my gently fluttering folds have proved an inspiration to untold millions.
   
Men have followed me into battle with unwavering courage.
   
They have looked upon me as a symbol of national unity.
   
They have prayed that they and their fellow citizens might continue to enjoy the life,
liberty and pursuit of happiness, which have been granted to every American as the heritage of free men.
   
So long as men love liberty more than life itself;
so long as they treasure the priceless privileges bought with the
blood of our forefathers; so long as the principles of truth, justice
and charity for all remain deeply rooted in human hearts, I shall
continue to be the enduring banner of the United States of America.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


AMERICA: A PROPHECY
by William Blake

The shadowy daughter of Urthona stood before red Orc.
When fourteen suns had faintly journey’d o’er his dark abode;
His food she brought in iron baskets, his drink in cups of iron;
Crown’d with a helmet & dark hair the nameless female stood;
A quiver with its burning stores, a bow like that of night,
When pestilence is shot from heaven; no other arms she need:
Invulnerable tho’ naked, save where clouds roll round her loins,
Their awful folds in the dark air; silent she stood as night;
For never from her iron tongue could voice or sound arise;
But dumb till that dread day when Orc assay’d his fierce embrace.
Dark virgin; said the hairy youth, thy father stern abhorr’d;
Rivets my tenfold chains while still on high my spirit soars;
Sometimes an eagle screaming in the sky, sometimes a lion,
Stalking upon the mountains, & sometimes a whale I lash
The raging fathomless abyss, anon a serpent folding
Around the pillars of Urthona, and round thy dark limbs,
On the Canadian wilds I fold, feeble my spirit folds.
For chained beneath I rend these caverns; when thou bringest food
I howl my joy! and my red eyes seek to behold thy face
In vain! these clouds roll to & fro, & hide thee from my sight.
Silent as despairing love, and strong as jealousy,
The hairy shoulders rend the links, free are the wrists of fire;
Round the terrific loins he siez’d the panting struggling womb;
It joy’d: she put aside her clouds & smiled her first-born smile;
As when a black cloud shews its light’nings to the silent deep.
Soon as she saw the terrible boy then burst the virgin cry.
I know thee, I have found thee, & I will not let thee go;
Thou art the image of God who dwells in darkness of Africa;
And thou art fall’n to give me life in regions of dark death.
On my American plains I feel the struggling afflictions
Endur’d by roots that writhe their arms into the nether deep:
I see a serpent in Canada, who courts me to his love;
In Mexico an Eagle, and a Lion in Peru;
I see a Whale in the South-sea, drinking my soul away.
O what limb rendering pains I feel. thy fire & my frost
Mingle in howling pains, in furrows by the lightnings rent;
This is eternal death; and this the torment long foretold.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


INDEPENDENCE DAY
by Del “Abe” Jones

In the year of 1776 
That paper was decreed - 
They were tired of oppression 
And wanted to be freed .
They wrote a Declaration 
So the whole world would see - 
This was, "the home of the brave 
And the land of the free". 
They signed that piece of parchment 
The leaders of this land - 
Knowing, divided they would fall 
But, together they could stand.
A new world lay before them 
Untamed from shore to shore - 
They swore the would protect it
If it meant going to war.
Battles have been fought - 
And many lives have been lost - 
So sad something so basic 
Has such a high, high cost.
'Seems freedom is a luxury 
There's some would bind us all - 
Like then, together, we can stand 
But divided, we will fall. 
More than two hundred years 
Have past by since that day 
That each of us celebrate 
In our own different way.
We should be proud and thankful 
Pay our share of the cost - 
Not take freedom for granted 
For it easily could be lost.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


ANOTHER INDEPENDENCE DAY
by Del “Abe” Jones

We’re another year older now
And, I wonder, what they’d say
Those who wrote our Declaration
For our Independence Day?

I bet they’re turning in their graves
To see, where our Country’s going
As we lose those hard won Freedoms
And, as our apathy keeps growing.

Our Government spies on us
“Big brother”, has come here
As they try to control us all
With deception, lies, and fear.

We have elected leaders(?)
Who don’t care about our Nation
Who give our Rights away
In favor of, the corporation.

They have us in another war
Where we surely don’t belong
And some say, “A hundred years”
Would not be, too long.

We have Troops coming home
Who are living in the street
As they seek, help and care
From a system, they can’t beat.

They give our treasury away
To what, they call, “foreign aid”
While we have hungry kids at home
And students, who can’t make the grade.

Our roads and bridges are a mess
Folks lose their homes to banks
We have illegals getting a free ride
Demanding more without, one, “Thanks! ”

They have given us a giant debt
Our children, will have to pay
While making other countries rich
With our jobs, they give away.

The Communists control
Almost, everything we buy
Like the old “company store”
While our treasury, they “shanghai”.

Foreign oil controls the rest
While we have technology
To use, alternative sources
To produce, our energy.

We have Federal agencies
Who work for the lobbyists
While people get sick, and die
To protect, those larcenists.

Our World is on the brink
Of a catastrophic end
For, the sake of the dollar
While we sit back, and pretend.

No, I don’t think they’d be pleased
Those Founders, of our Country
They’d say, “We’re sure disappointed! ”
Of what, we’ve come, to be.

Maybe it’s not too late, though
If we try to mend our way
And there’s no better time, than now
On this, Independence Day!




~ Independence Day Poems - Celebrating Our Freedom ~


Independence Day Poems Page Link Buttons

Link To Page One

Link To Page Two

Link To Page Three

Link To Page Four

Link To Page Five


Definition of Independence Day .....Wikipedia

Definition of Independence Day .....The Free Dictionary



Support Local Literacy - Shop at BetterWorld.com