SCOTT ALEXANDER MCKENZIE

America, the land of brave and free,
‘Tis writ in blood: We people do ordain,
For within thee, we seek tranquility,
And other blessings as we may attain,

But freedom’s price is steep; ‘tis never free,
As would be told by them who cannot speak,
Lo, e’en today, we see fragility,
‘Tis ruin of thy Union they would wreak,

Then patr'ot came, from God’s great Old North State,
A daughter of the revolution new,
Like surgeon seeking cancer to ablate,
She fights to quell the traitors’ ugly coup,

To Sidney Powell!  May God grant strength to thee,
Renew this land, from sea to shining sea!

- Scott Alexander McKenzie

Sweet land of liberty, it is of thee,
We sing the praises of thy founders keen,
Who with great prudence and conviction be,
The seedsmen of expansive pastures green,

‘Tis ‘pon cool blades beneath God’s graceful light,
Free men while seeking happiness did strive,
Protected by such true inherent right,
And hope: persistent families shall thrive.

For pilgrims’ pride in land where fathers died,
To shield the loss of warmth from freedom’s flame, 
Is strong with us; in short, we shan’t abide,
Those foes who seek our banner to defame,

America, for thee we fight today,
These traitors: ‘tis thy greatness they betray.

- Scott Alexander McKenzie

Obliv’ous ants march ‘round dry stalks of hay,
What momentar’ly hide me from my foe,
We patr’ots hearing distant horses neigh,
Await the beat of drum and fifer’s blow,

Calm wind doth bear sweet smell of sulf’rous smoke,
While blackened sweat doth fall on bloodied soil,
Grim orders from the rear, though hushly spok’t,
Bring tension ‘mongst the troops as tight’ning coil,

When bugle’s blast beats roar of canon fire,
Ten thousand men doth rise with rebel yell,
Who charge through rain of lead in seething ire,
Intent to show vile e-ne-mies to Hell,

Some men do fly; some draw their final breath,
Some men do cry: ‘Tis Liberty or Death!

​- Scott Alexander McKenzie