  Subdued and sad, I trod the place Where he, the hero, lived and died; Where, long-entombed beneath the shade By willow bough and cypress made, The peaceful scene with verdure rife, He and the partner of his life, Beloved of every land and race, Are sleeping side by side. The summer solstice at its height Reflected from Potomac's tide A glare of light, and through the trees Intensified the Southern breeze, That dallied, in the deep ravines, With graceful ferns and evergreens, While Northern cheeks so strangely white Grew dark as Nubia's pride. What must this homestead once have been In boundless hospitality, When Greene or Putnam may have met The host who welcomed Lafayette, Or when Pulaski, honored guest, Accepted shelter, food and rest, Its banquet hall of luxury! What comfort, cheer, and kind intent The weary stranger oft hath known When she, its mistress, fair and good, Reigned here in peerless womanhood, When soft, shy maiden fancy gave Encouragement to soldiers brave, And Washington his presence lent To grace its bright hearthstone! O beautiful Mount Vernon home, The Mecca of our long desire; Of more than passing interest To North and South, to East and West, To all Columbia's children free A precious, priceless legacy, Thine altar-shrine, as pilgrims come, Rekindles patriot fire! |
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