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Quotes about flag, page 18

60th Republic Day Celebrations in India (Jan 26th 2010)

Unfurl the tricolor flag, Indians!
And hoist it high upon the mast;
And let it move in freedom’s wind;
And make the country, Indians, proud!

Salute the national flag, Indians!
And sing the song of freedom’s love!
Remember how freedom was won
By Fighters’ Struggle, sacrifice!

Pray for the lives lost in the fight,
And emulate their examples;
Learn to be patriotic more,
And do your duty with fervor.

Take oath to serve our motherland;
Bharat is home of Indians;
We love its varied heritage;
All Indians are our fellowmen!

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Ode To The

How blest, how firm the Statesman stands,
(Him no low intrigue shall move),
Circled by faithful kindred bands,
And propp'd by fond fraternal love.


When his speeches hobble vilely,
What! "Hear him" burst from brother Hiley,
When the faltering periods lag,
Hark to the cheers of brother Bragge.


When the faltering periods lag,
Or his yawning audience flag,
When his speeches hobble vilely,
Or the House receives him drily,
Cheer, O! cheer him brother Bragge!
Cheer, O! cheer him brother Hiley!

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Without Death, Bloodshed and Suffering

Without death, bloodshed and suffering wars are never won
And only hatred and grief survives when the fighting is done
And war heroes honoured in every war street parade
By war men the memories of war not allowed for to fade
The politicians the praises of the war dead do sing
Their politicizing of war for sake of power not an honourable thing
For God, Flag and Country and National Pride
Far too many good young people in wars have died
one war leads to another war as the wise one did say
And millions for patriotism in wars with their lives do pay
For the sake of war the war men create us against they
And for the love of a flag the young and brave die in wars today
And on Rememberance Day the war men parade up and down
In a show of patriotism through the streets of the town.

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EndAround

If the endaround gets in the open and the balltosser does not get killed the sideline washer will come into the game. Then the seventeen minutes will last longer then ever and seem like forever the men with the whistles will forfeit the flag the chain pullers come the ball is then moved to a different line.
In soccer the rules are different the endaround is the tommyboy.
The balltosser becomes the place kicker. The sideline washer is Jenifer she takes up the seventeen minutes. The men with the whistles have none they are called the ref. The chain pullers become the balltossers. They toss the ball out. The tommyboy catches the ball in both games. The place kicker heads. Jenifer smiles and forfeits the flag she is the ref in this game. The place kicker is dead.
Football and Soccer End around came.

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Half Mass

american soldiers were slaughtered
on a military base today.
by an arab american officer
who held everyone at bay.

and for these departed soldiers
all of america will pray.
but a question was put to me
and i was'nt sure just what to say.

if they are flying the american flag
at half mass for those who died today
what about the ones who've given their lives
to protect the american way?

why should we fly the flag at half mass
just for those who died at FORT HOOD.
it should be for all soldiers
and they would argue if they could.

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Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 42

Listen to this story how in Baghdad
A flag and a curtain fell into dispute.
Travel stained, dusty and fatigued, the flag
Said to the curtain by way of reproach:
‘I and thou, we are both fellow servants,
Slaves of the sultan’s palace.
Not a moment had I rest from service
In season and out of season I travelled about.
Thou hast suffered neither toil nor siege,
Not from the desert, wind, nor dust and dirt.
My step in the march is more advancing.
Then why is thy honour exceeding mine?
Thou art upon moon-faced servants
Or jessamine scented slave girls.
I have fallen into prentice hands.
I travel with foot in fetters and head fluttering.’
The curtain said: ‘My head is on the threshold
Not like thine in the heavens.
Who carelessly lifts up his neck
Throws himself upon his neck.’

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Tis Finished

'Tis finished! 'tis ended!
The dread and awful task is done;
Tho' wounded and bleeding,
'tis ours to sing the vict'ry won,
Our nation is ransom'd--our enemies are overthrown
And now, now commoners, the brightest era ever known.

Then sing hallelujah! sing hallelujah!
Glory be to God on high!
For the old flag with the high white flag
is hanging in the azure sky.

Ye joy bells! ye peace-bells!
Oh never, never music rang,
So sweetly, so grandly, since angels in the advent sang,
Your message is gladness to myriads of waiting souls,
As onward and world-ward the happy, happy echo rolls.

Come patriots! come freedom!
Come join your every heart and voice;

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Flexible And Suitable

Your platform!
The one who have chosen to stand on,
With your advocating of issues.
What is the core and basis of its foundation?

'Mostly a thick and sturdy sheet of plexiglass.
Supported strategically,
By a few quick removing cinder blocks.'

And the people whom you wish to leave,
Approve your ability to take and shift...
Your priorities as you please?

'My priorities are as safely placed,
As the plexiglass we have tested for defections.
Making my platform both flexible and suitable,
To represent my beliefs.
And dare I do anyone raise an eyebrow,
To the new flag I will introduce to incorporate the seriousness...
Of my campaign.'

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A New Song to an Old Tune

SONS of Shannon, Tamar, Trent,
Men of the Lothians, Men of Kent,
Essex, Wessex, shore and shire,
Mates of the net, the mine, the fire,
Lads of the wheel and desk and loom,
Noble and trader, squire and groom,
Come where the bugles of England play,
'Over the hills and far away!'

Southern Cross and Polar Star --
Here are the Britons bred afar;
Serry, O serry them, fierce and keen,
Under the flag of the Empress-Queen;
Shoulder to shoulder down the track,
Where, to the unretreating Jack,
The victor bugles of England play,
'Over the hills and far away!'

What if the best of our wages be
An empty sleeve, a stiff-set knee,

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What Shall I Do For the Land that Bred Me

What shall I do for the land that bred me,
Her homes and fields that folded and fed me?—
Be under her banner and live for her honour:
Under her banner I’ll live for her honour.
CHORUS. Under her banner live for her honour.

Not the pleasure, the pay, the plunder,
But country and flag, the flag I am under—
There is the shilling that finds me willing
To follow a banner and fight for honour.
CH. We follow her banner, we fight for her honour.

Call me England’s fame’s fond lover,
Her fame to keep, her fame to recover.
Spend me or end me what God shall send me,
But under her banner I live for her honour.
CH. Under her banner we march for her honour.

Where is the field I must play the man on?
O welcome there their steel or cannon.

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