BY W—LL——M C—LL—N B—Y—NT

The sun sinks softly to his Ev’ning Post,

The sun swells grandly to his morning crown;

Yet not a star our Flag of Heav’n has lost,

And not a sunset stripe with him goes down.

So thrones may fall, and from the dust of those,

New thrones may rise, to totter like the last;

But still our Country’s nobler planet glows

While the eternal stars of Heaven are fast.

A Parody Anthology · 第 340 / 375 题