Ensigns of empires flaunt thy flanking wall,
Grim ancient warders guard thy storied gate,
Loud Babeled centuries at thy bastions wait
On Spanish, French, and English seneschal.
Rich yellow folds of Castile's haughty state,
Fair Fleur de Lys from proud Parisian hall,
St. George's Cross triumphant o'er them all,
Recall long years of fierce and bloody hate.
But now the star-eyed daisy lifts its form
From crevice, chink, and crumbling parapet,
Without one stain of battle's crimson storm
On snowy leaf with golden petal set:
Bright banneret which Nature kindly rears
To deck with light the mould of bitter years.