When I went to the range the other day, this was posted on the bulletin board. I was impressed with it, and I'd like to pass it along. I have absolutely no idea who wrote it.
A VISITOR FROM THE PAST
I had a dream the other night I didn't understand.
A figure walking through the mist, with flintlock in his hand.
His clothes were torn and dirty as he stood there by my bed.
He took off his three-cornered hat and, speaking low, he said:
"We fought a revolution to secure out liberty.
We wrote a constitution as a shield from tyranny.
For future generations this legacy we gave.
In this the land of the free and the home of the brave.
The freedom we secured for you, we hoped you'd always keep.
But tyrants labored endlessly while your parents were asleep.
Your freedoms gone, your courage lost, you're no more than a slave in this,
the land of the free and the home of the brave.
You buy permits to travel. and permits to own a gun, permits to start a business or build a place for one.
On land that you believe you own, you pay a yearly rent.
Although you have no voice in choosing how the money's spent.
Your children must attend a school that doesn't educate.
Your Christian values can't be taught, according to the state.
You read about the current news, in a regulated press.
You pay a tax you do not owe, to please the I.R.S.
Your money is no longer made of silver or of gold.
You trade your wealth for paper so your life can be controlled.
You pay for crimes that make our nation turn from God in shame.
You've taken Satan's number, as you've traded in your name.
You've given government control to those who do you harm,
so they can padlock churches and steal the family farm, and keep our country deep in debt,
put men of God in jail, Harass your fellow countrymen while corrupted courts prevail.
Your public servants don't uphold the solemn oath they've sworn.
Your daughter visit doctors so their children won't be born.
Your leaders ship artillery and guns to foreign shores
and send your sons to slaughter, fighting other peoples wars.
Can you regain the freedom for which we fought and died?
Or don't you have the courage, or the faith, to stand with pride?
Are there no more values for which you'll fight to save?
Or do you wish your children to live in fear and be a slave?
People of the Republic, arise and take a stand!
Defend the Constitution, the Supreme Law of the Land!
Preserve out Great Republic, and God-given right,
and pray to God to keep the torch of freedom burning bright."
As I awoke he vanished in the mist from whence he came.
His words were true: we are not free, we have ourselves to blame.
For even now as tyrants trample each God-given right,
we only watch and treble, too afraid to stand and fight!
If he stood by your bedside in a dream while you're asleep,
and wondered what remains of our rights he fought to keep,
what would be your answer if he called out from the grave:
"IS THIS STILL THE LAND OF THE FREE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE?"
I tried to keep this exactly as it was written. Any typos, spelling errors or anything else may, or may not be my faults as I had a poor copy to work with.
Paul B
COMPROMISE IS NOT AN OPTION!
[This message has been edited by Paul B. (edited July 03, 1999).]
A VISITOR FROM THE PAST
I had a dream the other night I didn't understand.
A figure walking through the mist, with flintlock in his hand.
His clothes were torn and dirty as he stood there by my bed.
He took off his three-cornered hat and, speaking low, he said:
"We fought a revolution to secure out liberty.
We wrote a constitution as a shield from tyranny.
For future generations this legacy we gave.
In this the land of the free and the home of the brave.
The freedom we secured for you, we hoped you'd always keep.
But tyrants labored endlessly while your parents were asleep.
Your freedoms gone, your courage lost, you're no more than a slave in this,
the land of the free and the home of the brave.
You buy permits to travel. and permits to own a gun, permits to start a business or build a place for one.
On land that you believe you own, you pay a yearly rent.
Although you have no voice in choosing how the money's spent.
Your children must attend a school that doesn't educate.
Your Christian values can't be taught, according to the state.
You read about the current news, in a regulated press.
You pay a tax you do not owe, to please the I.R.S.
Your money is no longer made of silver or of gold.
You trade your wealth for paper so your life can be controlled.
You pay for crimes that make our nation turn from God in shame.
You've taken Satan's number, as you've traded in your name.
You've given government control to those who do you harm,
so they can padlock churches and steal the family farm, and keep our country deep in debt,
put men of God in jail, Harass your fellow countrymen while corrupted courts prevail.
Your public servants don't uphold the solemn oath they've sworn.
Your daughter visit doctors so their children won't be born.
Your leaders ship artillery and guns to foreign shores
and send your sons to slaughter, fighting other peoples wars.
Can you regain the freedom for which we fought and died?
Or don't you have the courage, or the faith, to stand with pride?
Are there no more values for which you'll fight to save?
Or do you wish your children to live in fear and be a slave?
People of the Republic, arise and take a stand!
Defend the Constitution, the Supreme Law of the Land!
Preserve out Great Republic, and God-given right,
and pray to God to keep the torch of freedom burning bright."
As I awoke he vanished in the mist from whence he came.
His words were true: we are not free, we have ourselves to blame.
For even now as tyrants trample each God-given right,
we only watch and treble, too afraid to stand and fight!
If he stood by your bedside in a dream while you're asleep,
and wondered what remains of our rights he fought to keep,
what would be your answer if he called out from the grave:
"IS THIS STILL THE LAND OF THE FREE AND HOME OF THE BRAVE?"
I tried to keep this exactly as it was written. Any typos, spelling errors or anything else may, or may not be my faults as I had a poor copy to work with.
Paul B
COMPROMISE IS NOT AN OPTION!
[This message has been edited by Paul B. (edited July 03, 1999).]