The following is taken from the great works
of English Metaphysical Poet and Churchman
John Donne, (1572-1631):

Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions (1624)

Meditation XVII: Nunc lento sonitu dicunt, Morieris.
Now, this Bell tolling softy...

No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe;
every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine;
if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse,
as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of
thy friends or of thine owne were;
any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde;
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.

I AM THE FLAG
OF THE
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

I am the flag of the United States of America.
My name is Old Glory.
I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I fly majestically over institutions of learning.
I stand guard with power in the world.
Look up and see me.

I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice.
I stand for freedom.
I am confident.
I am arrogant.
I am proud.

When I am flown with my fellow banners,
my head is a little higher, my colors a little truer.
I bow to no one!
I am recognized all over the world.
I am saluted.
I am loved - I am revered.
I am respected - and I am feared.

I have fought in every battle of every war for more then 200 years.
I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox.
I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France,
in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy,
Guam. Okinawa, Korea and KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam know me,
I was there.

I led my troops,
I was dirty, battleworn and tired,
but my soldiers cheered me,
and I was proud.

I have been burned, torn and trampled on the streets of
countries I have helped set free.
It does not hurt, for I am invincible.

I have been soiled upon, burned, torn
and trampled on the streets of my country.
And when it's by those whom I've served in battle -- it hurts.
But I shall overcome -- for I am strong.

I have slipped the bonds of Earth
and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of
space from my vantage point on the moon.

I have borne silent witness to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hours are yet to come.

When I am torn into strips and used as bandages
for my wounded comrades on the battlefield;
when I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier;
or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent
at the grave of their fallen son or daughter, I am proud.

MY NAME IS OLD GLORY
LONG MAY I WAVE.
DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN
LONG MAY I WAVE.
PLEASE FORWARD MY MESSAGE TO ALL
WHO STILL LOVE AND RESPECT ME,
THAT I MAY FLY PROUDLY FOR
ANOTHER TWO HUNDRED YEARS.

Author Unknown

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