The Solitary Sentry
Alone on a pillar of stone he stands,
Still attired in army blue.
At Auburn and Main he surveys the lands,
That by memory he once knew.
His past is beclouded by mystery.
His adventures are known no more.
The fragmental facts of his history,
Were contained in a maze of lore.
The fervor for freedom we have within
Is engraved on his brazen brow.
His feelings he curbed by his discipline.
No self pity would he allow.
We approve and assent to this doubtful move.
We are pleased and like saints we smile.
We gratified self, but did not improve
Nor conform to his wonted style.
Memorial hall is the proper site
Where our sentry may best be seen
Mid national symbols of truth and might
That reflect from his lofty mien.