In the heart of old New York, where tales intertwine,
Stands Fraunces Tavern, a relic divine.
With walls that have whispered the secrets of time,
Where revolution brewed in courage’s prime.
Through wooden beams echo the laughter and cheer,
Of patriots bold, who gathered right here.
In the shadow of freedom, their spirits took flight,
As they plotted their course for a future of light.
The tavern’s old hearth, once a gathering place,
For George Washington, who wore valor’s embrace.
With a toast to the allies and battles well fought,
In this hallowed ground, history’s lessons were taught.
In candlelit corners, the stories unfold,
Of soldiers and statesmen, both daring and bold.
From the echoes of laughter to whispers of dread,
In each sip of ale, the past comes to tread.
The scent of the spices, the crackle of fire,
Bring forth the memories of dreams that inspire.
Each table a canvas where life’s strokes are drawn,
From dusk until dawn, till the first light of dawn.
Oh, New York, your heartbeat thrums in the tavern’s old veins,
In the clinking of glasses, in joys and in pains.
As the city evolves, through each passing year,
Fraunces stands steadfast, a beacon, a seer.
In the garden of history, its roots run so deep,
Where the spirits of yore in their slumber do sleep.
The ghosts of the past dance through the hall,
Reminding us all of the rise and the fall.
So raise up your glasses, let’s honor the past,
In the warmth of this tavern, where friendships hold fast.
For within these old walls, the stories entwine,
In the heart of old New York, at this tavern divine.
With each footstep echoing on cobblestone ground,
The spirit of freedom forever is found.
In the tales of liberty, of hope, and of strife,
Fraunces Tavern lives on, a symbol of life.