The Gettysburg Address by Abraham Lincoln

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead who struggled here have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth."


My Country ‘Tis of Thee

By Samuel Smith

My country, ’tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims’ pride,
From every mountainside,
Let freedom ring!

My native country, thee,
Land of the noble free,
Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills;
My heart with rapture thrills,
Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees,
Sweet freedom’s song;
Let mortal tongues awake;
Let all that breathe partake;
Let rocks their silence break,
The sound prolong.

Our fathers’ God, to Thee,
Author of liberty,
To Thee we sing;
Long may our land be bright
With freedom’s holy light;
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God, our King.












A SONG Tuli Kupferberg


tune: America

My country is it of thee?
Land bereft of Liberty
Is it of thee I sing?
Land where the Indians died
Land of the Slave-Holders' pride
From ev'ry mountain's strip-mined side
Let Pollution spring.

My Know-Nothing country, thee
Land of Great College Fees
Thy hair's been dyed.
We hear thy rocks & rolls
Jingled by them greedy souls
And all thru the Land they Stole
Thy TV is refried.

Thy gunshots shoot the breeze
Gooks hang from world-wide trees
You own The Bomb.
Lied to in all our schools
Beaten with their Golden Rules
Treated like a bunch of fools
Our time will come.

Their propertied God, to thee
Architect of Tyranny
To thee we won't cower.
Soon may our Land be bright
With Rebellion's Holy Light
In daring love is our might
Common People to Power!