The century illustrated monthly magazine . ger the sextonSlept in his usual way. But all sprang up on the instant, And the widest of eyes grew wider While on towards the porch, like a tempest, Came sweeping the horse and its rider; And now from the din of the hoof-beats A trumpet voice leapt out, And, tingling to its rafters, The church was alive with the shout,— li Burgoyne s at Ticonderoga ; Would you have the old fort surrender ? No, no! cried the parson; New Hampshire Will send the last man to defend her! But before he could shoulder his musket A Tory sang up from below, I hear a great voi
The century illustrated monthly magazine . ger the sextonSlept in his usual way. But all sprang up on the instant, And the widest of eyes grew wider While on towards the porch, like a tempest, Came sweeping the horse and its rider; And now from the din of the hoof-beats A trumpet voice leapt out, And, tingling to its rafters, The church was alive with the shout,— li Burgoyne s at Ticonderoga ; Would you have the old fort surrender ? No, no! cried the parson; New Hampshire Will send the last man to defend her! But before he could shoulder his musket A Tory sang up from below, I hear a great voice out of heaven, sir, Warning us not to go. Quick from the pulpit descending,With the agile step of a lion,— The voice you hear is from hell, sir ! Replied the young servant of out through the open doorway,And on past the porch he strode,And the congregation came after,And gathered beside the road. Sadly enough the colonel,The minute-men all arraying,From the dusty cocked hat of the riderDrew the lots for going or no, no !cried the parson; new Hampshirewill send the last man to defend her ) 63 Then waving his hat as he took it,And putting the spurs to his mare,The stranger rode off to New IpswichIn a cheering that rent the air. Worse than the shock of battle, Now came the sad leave-taking, And to mothers and maids and matrons The deepest of grief and heart-aching; And far on the road through the mountains Whence the rider had just come, They followed the minute-men marching To the sound of the fife and the drum. Long dead have they been who sat thereAt that feast of things eternal —Long dead the laymen, the deacons,The lawyer, the doctor, the colonel;Long dead the youths and the maidens,And long on the graves of allHave the summers and the wintersTheir leaves and their snows let fall. But whenever I come to the churchyard,Where, by the side of the pastor,They afterwards laid the colonel,His friend in success and disaster,I see again on the commonThe
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, booksubjectamerica, bookyear1882
