Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet; That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light, The fate of a nation was riding that night; And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, He has left the village and mounted the steep, And under the alders, that skirt its edge, It was twelve by the village clock When he crossed the bridge into Medford town. And the barking of the farmer's dog, It was one by the village clock, Swim in the moonlight as he passed, And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare, Gaze at him with a spectral glare, As if they already stood aghast At the bloody work they would look upon. It was two by the village clock, When he came to the bridge in Concord town. And the twitter of birds among the trees, THE FATE OF A NATION WAS RIDING THAT NIGHT And one was safe and asleep in his bed Who at the bridge would be first to fall, Who that day would be lying dead, Pierced by a British musket-ball. You know the rest. In the books you have read, How the British Regulars fired and fled How the farmers gave them ball for ball, So through the night rode Paul Revere; A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, In the hour of darkness and peril and need, And the midnight message of Paul Revere. In the evening after supper our party joined Mr. and Mrs. Lemon on the porch. The topic of conversation was the old days, the days when Longfellow and his comrades sat where they were sitting. Just as the moon peeped over the distant hills, Uncle Jack lifted up his voice in song, the rest helping in the chorus. This is what he sang: I know, Gone from the earth to a bet ter land, a 6 I hear their gen-tle voi-ces call-ing, "Old Black Joe!". CHORUS I'm com-ing, I'm com- ing, For my head is bend-ing low; I hear those gen-tle voi-ces call-ing, "Old Black Joe!" There was silence for some minutes after the singing, broken finally by Father who said: "Time for bed. We must be up early, for we leave for Cape Cod in the morning.' So the party broke up, and good nights were said. Mother and the girls went up-stairs to the Longfellow room, where they were to sleep, while Father, Uncle Jack, and Ben occupied the Lafayette room, Ben sleeping on an old-fashioned trundle bed. During the day, this bed was hidden beneath the big four-poster in the room. At night, when needed, it was trundled out from underneath. |