Song Composed for Washington's Birthday,

A hundred years and more ago

A little child was born —

To-day, with pomp of martial show,

We hail his natal morn.

Who guessed as that poor infant wept

Upon a woman's knee,

A nation from the centuries stept

As weak and frail as he?

Who saw the future on his brow

Upon that happy morn?

We are a mighty nation now

Because that child was born.

To him, and to his spirit's scope,

Besides a glorious home,

We owe that what we have and hope

Are more than Greece and Rome.