Their colors in the wind flowing, in the sun brightening:
Deep blue of the night sky, or the splendor of flame,
Or green of spring, or the daring imperious scarlet,
The color of men’s blood:
Their curious blazonry I love, heraldic, historic,
Leopard or eagle, stripe or star or raying sun,
Or the Cross of St. George and the Cross of St. Andrew,
Or whatsoever sign men have loved and followed.
For surely a flag has a soul.
It is a thing sacred as sunrise,