- By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
- Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
- Here once the embattled farmers stood,
- And fired the shot heard round the world.
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- The foe long since in silence slept;
- Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
- And Time the ruined bridge has swept
- Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.
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- On this green bank, by this soft stream,
- We set to-day a votive stone;
- That memory may their deed redeem,
- When, like our sires, our sons are gone.
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- Spirit, that made those heroes dare
- To die, or leave their children free,
- Bid Time and Nature gently spare
- The shaft we raise to them and thee.