_Sic Jurat._
The knightliest of the knightly race,
Who, since the days of old,
Have kept the lamp of chivalry
Alight in hearts of gold;
The kindliest of the kindly band
Who rarely hated ease,
Who rode with Smith around the land
And Raleigh round the seas!
Who climbed the blue Virginia hills,
Amid embattled foes,
And planted there, in valleys fair,
The lily and the rose;
Whose fragrance lives in many lands,
Whose beauty stars the earth,
And lights the hearths of many homes
With loveliness and worth!
We thought they slept! the sons who kept
The names of noble sires,
And slumbered while the darkness crept
Around their vigil fires!
But still the Golden Horseshoe knights,
Their Old Dominion keep,
Whose foes have found enchanted ground,
But not a knight asleep.