Classic Poem

Paine! The Prison of France! Lafayette!
The Bastile key to our Washington,
Whose feet on the necks of tyrants set
Shattered their prisons every one.
The key hangs here on his white walls high,
That all shall see, that none shall forget
What tyrants have been, what they may be yet;
And the Potomac rolling by.

On Washington's walls let it rust and rust,
And tell its story of blood and of tears,
That Time still holds to the Poet's trust,
To people his pages for years and years.
The monstrous shape on the white walls high,
Like a thief in chains let it rot and rust —
Its kings and adorers crowned in dust:
And the Potomac rolling by.