  [Spoken at the Centenary Celebration, April 17th.] These hoary walls if they could speak What wondrous tales they'd tell! Of many strange encounters That long ago befell Good Pittsburgh folks who laid these stones One hundred years ago When Uncle Sam looked at John Bull As his most hated foe. The builders in those good old days, Who fashioned this old wall Knew naught of graft or cheap cement: They built things not to fall. And so we see the magazines And walls are just as good As when in days of Lafayette These sturdy bulwarks stood And frowned on him as he passed by As if they wished to say, Till centuries roll away." They heard the dread explosion That shook their very ground But firm they stood as bulwarks When stones fell all around. Again when dreadful RIOT Brought bloodshed in its path These walls though dyed with crimson Looked coldly on man's wrath. Not even blood of soldiers Could make them shed a tear And that is why these sturdy walls Have reached their hundredth year. The moral of this little tale Is that we should not weep and wail But ever put away all fears So we may live a hundred years. |
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