Eerie tales,
And the stars danced to and fro,
I dreamt of the land where my forefathers trod,
In those times of long ago,
In Boston Harbour I saw brave men,
And I watched with youthful pride,
When they scattered the tea in a tax laden sea,
To a dark and an angry tide,
I wondered then as I watched these men,
Who flouted King George's might,
Would redcoat hordes with their glittеring swords,
Wreak vengeancе in the night?

Then a voice rang out in the starry air,
"Stand fast, young man, be brave,
Far better to die neath an open sky,
Than live like a cowering slave",
That early dawn of an April morn,
I stood on a mountain tall,
And felt the shock of the musket shot,
That started first freedom's call,
My spirits soared as the thunder roared,
I prayed to the blazing sky,
To bless the hand of the gallant band,
Who carried our banner high.

In that shifting scene of my wandering dream,
I rode fast to Bennington town,
General Stark and his Green Mountain boys,
Were camped on the dewy ground,
I gazed for a while and saw his sad smile,
Then he softly said to me,
"Their young blood will stain this Vermont plain,
Before our land is free."

I remember that smile as I rode each mile,
In my heart a dreadful chill,
The blood and the sweat and the smell of death,
Rising high over Bunker Hill,
The men and the boys with their sightless eyes,
Who lay dead before their time,
When they broke the chain of King George's reign,
In a place they call Brandywine.

Then clear upon a cold night air,
I heard a suffering cry,
A ragged band of hungry men,
Were slowly shuffling by,
Across the valley grim and bare,
I heard the bugle blow,
The bloody beat of their torn feet staining the virgin snow.

In the shivering scene of my nightmare dream,
A tall man spoke to me,
He looked grey and old in the crippling cold,
But his eyes were bright and clear,
He said, "Listen well, then you must tell,
Of these deeds these men have done,
And future days will sing their praise,
From dawn till the setting sun,
Tell them of Saratoga,
Where the patriots fought and died,
Of Valley Forge, of Paul Revere who made that midnight ride,
Of Cowpens and King's Mountain,
Don't let them soon forget,
Or Patrick Henry's immortal words,
"Give me liberty or death",
Remember Swamp Fox Marion,
Who led that wily band,
Of Allen, Green and Sumter who made a noble stand,
Remember, too, the mothers true who cried their tears alone,
Their names will be told with the brave and the bold,
Where e'er our flag is flown."

He left me then but I saw him again standing tall near Yorktown Bay,
I saw Cornwallis surrender his sword on that bleak October day,
Then the tall man turned and he said to me,
"Young man, our fight has just begun",
Like a flashing scene I awoke from my dream and I cried in my silent room,
On my way to school I felt like a fool as my childish tears did flow,
The things I had seen were all in dream,
You see, they'd happened long ago,
Then I cast my eye to a building high where the flag was floating free,
And I smiled to the sun for the men who had won,
A nation for you and me.