From the poem of Oliver Wendell Holmes, I quote a few verses:
How long the wreck-strewn journey seems
To reach the far-off past
That woke his youth from peaceful dreams
With Freedom’s trumpet-blast!
Along her classic hillsides rung
The Paynims’ battle-cry,
And like a red-cross knight he sprung
For her to live or die.
No trustier service claimed the wreath