FOURTH OF JULY

Fourth of July, how sweet it sounds,

As every year it rolls around.

It brings active joy to boy and man,

This glorious day throughout our land.

We hail this day with joy and pride,

And speak of our forefathers who died;

And drove the British from our shore.

We, as descendants of that race,

Should not now our land disgrace.

Arise, freeman, arise once more,

Be earnest as in the days of yore.

by Mrs. Julia A. Moore 1928

TO THE FOUNDING FATHERS

A star that we perceive across the void.

We chart our passage by your words, still burning

Long after your bright core has been destroyed.

No longer do we speak of "natural" rights,

Nor can we think that Reason guides our will.

We've been through far too many gruesome nights

To hope we have reduced our lust to kill.

Yet hope remains the engine of our fire,

Hope that someday all of us will be

Happy in the least that we require:

Well-fed, well-housed, safe, secure, and free.

This dream we still pursue, though darkness come,

Your wisdom, hope, and courage through us run.

Art by Bob Bates