Our Town - Poem by Ann Stanford
This is the village where we grew
Our fathers and their sires in line
The trees they planted shade the view
And the white houses shine.
The families here had come to stay
The preacher was the parson's son
And if one brother moved away
We kept the solid one.
We tended order in the town
Our lawns were trim, our hedges green
And in the countryside around
The furrows straight and clean
We went to church, obeyed the laws
And voted on election day.
The peaceful farms surrounded us
The battles always far away.
And when the soldiers came to town
With drums and our flag overhead,
We watched them from the commons lawn
Until they shot us dead.
Comments about Our Town by Ann Stanford
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
William Ernest Henley
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night