Call From The Crags by Wisconsin Kraut Will the inheritance of our people be put to grinding mill? Where is my shining prince Steed tramping proud Voice carried firm Blood flowing pure? Where is my binded kilt Pleats swirling quick Tartan shining bright Belt pulled snug? Where is my faithful claymor Blade chopping…
Category: Poetry
The Farmer (Poem by Free Idealist)
The Farmer Walking down the bloodied street, I enjoy the dirt upon my feet, That feeling that feels so sweet, Of earthen dust so fine and neat. I’m stared at by the men of town, Their faces full of scowl and frown, Who look so often always down, So deep in debt they just…
Freedom’s Dirge (an Original Poem)
Do you hear the trumpets fading? The voice of my once beloved Do you see her eyes grow dim? The vision of the Republic The only way forward is to look back When The Foundation is Corrupted A New Beginning must be Assured Glorious and Triumphant
Say Not the Struggle Nought Availeth
BY ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH Say not the struggle nought availeth, The labour and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth, And as things have been they remain. If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your comrades chase e’en now the fliers,…