THE noble Sire, fallen on evil days, <br /> I saw, with hand uplifted, menacing, brandishing, <br /> (Memories of old in abeyance--love and faith in abeyance,) <br /> The insane knife toward the Mother of All. <br /> <br /> <br /> The noble Son, on sinewy feet advancing, <br /> I saw--out of the land of prairies--land of Ohio's waters, and of <br /> Indiana, <br /> To the rescue, the stalwart giant, hurry his plenteous offspring, <br /> Drest in blue, bearing their trusty rifles on their shoulders. <br /> <br /> <br /> Then the Mother of All, with calm voice speaking, <br /> As to you, Virginia, (I seemed to hear her say,) why strive against <br /> me--and why seek my life? 10 <br /> When you yourself forever provide to defend me? <br /> For you provided me Washington--and now these also.<br /><br />Walt Whitman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/virginia-the-west/
