Classic Poem

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.
II
We hail this day with joy and pride,
And speak of our forefathers who died;
Who fought for liberty in days of yore,
And drove the British from our shore.
III
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.