58
FIFES AND DRUMS
Flung to the world-wide winds
Old Glory goes to the breeze.
We are on our way back Home—
By the trail we have come before;
By the trail that leads from the depths
Through the swirl of the Winning Score;
So those of you in the way
Hark to the chant we've spun—
"Give us the open road
Till we find our place in the sun."
Grantland Rice.