Ballads of Bravery

As shines the moon in clouded skies,
She in her poor attire was seen;
One praised her ankles, one her eyes,
One her dark hair and lovesome mien.
So sweet a face, such angel grace,
In all that land had never been;
Cophetua sware a royal oath, —
“This beggar maid shall be my queen.”

Bunker Hill

NOT yet, not yet! Steady, steady!”
On came the foe in even line,
Nearer and nearer to thrice paces nine.
We looked into their eyes. “Ready!”
A sheet of flame, a roll of death!
They fell by scores: we held our breath.
Then nearer still they came.
Another sheet of flame,
And brave men fled who never fled before.
Immortal fight!
Foreshadowing flight
Back to the astounded shore.

Quickly they rallied, re-enforced,
’Mid louder roar of ships’ artillery,
And bursting bombs and whistling musketry,
And shouts and groans anear, afar,
All the new din of dreadful war.
Through their broad bosoms calmly coursed
The blood of those stout farmers, aiming
For freedom, manhood’s birthright claiming.
Onward once more they came.
Another sheet of deathful flame!
Another and another still!
They broke, they fled,
Again they sped
Down the green, bloody hill.

Howe, Burgoyne, Clinton, Gage,
Stormed with commanders’ rage.
Into each emptied barge
They crowd fresh men for a new charge
Up that great hill.
Again their gallant blood we spill.
That volley was the last:
Our powder failed.
On three sides fast
The foe pressed in, nor quailed
A man. Their barrels empty, with musket-stocks
They fought, and gave death-dealing knocks,
Till Prescott ordered the retreat.
Then Warren fell; and through a leaden sleet
From Bunker Hill and Breed,
Stark, Putnam, Pomeroy, Knowlton, Read,
Led off the remnant of those heroes true,
The foe too weakened to pursue.
The ground they gained; but we
The victory.

The tidings of that chosen band
Flowed in a wave of power
Over the shaken, anxious land,
To men, to man, a sudden dower.
History took a fresh, higher start
From that stanch, beaming hour;
And when the speeding messenger, that bare
The news that strengthened every heart,
Met near the Delaware
The leader, who had just been named,
Who was to be so famed,
The steadfast, earnest Washington,
With hands uplifted, cries,
His great soul flashing to his eyes,
“Our liberties are safe! The cause is won!”
A thankful look he cast to heaven, and then
His steed he spurred, in haste to lead such noble men.

Fastening the Buckle

STAND still, my steed, though the foe   is near,
And sharp the rattle of hoofs on the hill.
And see! there’s the glitter of many a spear,
And a wrathful shout that bodes us ill.
Stand still! Our way is weary and long,
And muscle and foot are put to the test.
Buckle and girth must be tightened and strong;
And rider and horse are far from rest.

A moment more, and then we’ll skim
Like a driving cloud o’er hill and plain;
The vision of horseman will slowly dim,
And pursuer seek the pursued in vain.
Ha! stirrup is strong and girth is tight!
One bound to the saddle, and off we go.
I count their spears as they glisten bright
In the ruddy beams of the sunset glow.

’Tis life or death; but we’re fresh and strong,
And buckle and girth are fastened tight.