I like the old man with the three-cornered hat;
It reminds me of 75
When the hearts of our fathers went pat, pit-a pat
And Liberty scarce was alive.

I like the old man with the three-cornered hat;
And the honest old visage that shows under that.
It bids me remember the tales I have heard,
The aged report of old time,
When the ship Massachussetts by Hancock was steered,
And a three-cornered hat was no crime.

He puts me in mind of a sturdy old oak
That has weathered the rough pelting blast;
Though a limb by rude lightening was tore off and broke,
The well-rooted trunk holds it fast.

I like the old trunk, for its scions will prove
An honor to Liberty’s shore –
The ornament, beauty and pride of the grove
When the storm-shattered oak is no more.

I LIKE the old man with the three-cornered hat,
And the honest old visage that shows under that.