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Show TOURIST'S EYE-VIEW OF AMERICA I . UPON VIEWING A PORTRAIT OF GEORGE WASHINGTON His powdered presence f i l l s the room with massive dignity. In the squareness of his jaw I feel the f i r e and zeal, understand the strength; know the union of this people then and now. In magnetic silence I look within the shadowed reaches of this frame upon the wall and view the man behind the face. He must have walked in fragrance of Virginia nights, clinked the tankard l i d and glass in toasts to liberty. His six foot-three must have learned to bend, to bow and c i r c l e in a stately minuet. When he rode the country lanes he lived the planter's day Cantering through morning, he measured brown and green acres far beyond his sight. In furrows of deep thought he stood on Potomac's banks and watched the river flow. His was blood and bone l i ke yours and mine. He knew the surge of pain. In that deep hour when l i f e was ebbing low, his words, "I die hard, I am not afraid to go." In these ice blue eyes, granite face and tightened lips there lurks a rebel's cry against the touch of tyranny. |