Land of the Feast of Flowers
Where yon star-spangled banner waves command,
I hear the drum roll and the bugle blow,
Like martial echoes from that Long Ago
When streams ran sparkling over golden sand,
For cavaliers of royal Ferdinand;
'Twas here Menendez doomed the Huguenot,
And here, with martyr blood of brave Ribault,
To fierce baptismal gave a savage strand.
What chronicle! What medley of romance,
Of war, ambition, hatreds, loves, and fears,
Nations have written on this wild expanse
Scarce yet explored, though seven-and-ten score years
Are gone since bowed the oriflamme of France,
St. Augustine, to thy bold Pioneers.
I hear the drum roll and the bugle blow,
Like martial echoes from that Long Ago
When streams ran sparkling over golden sand,
For cavaliers of royal Ferdinand;
'Twas here Menendez doomed the Huguenot,
And here, with martyr blood of brave Ribault,
To fierce baptismal gave a savage strand.
What chronicle! What medley of romance,
Of war, ambition, hatreds, loves, and fears,
Nations have written on this wild expanse
Scarce yet explored, though seven-and-ten score years
Are gone since bowed the oriflamme of France,
St. Augustine, to thy bold Pioneers.
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