The northern tribune. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1847-1855, 1847-11-16
For the Northern Tribune.
A Flight with James K. Polk.

A Flight with James (. Polk
Up up my Lord John RusseII-'tls fair night for
Awake! awake, Young Hickory, though loud the
Come 90 abroad with me to the ruin and the woe
Which in thy short rule thou hast caused. Come
and 'I show TO thee
The agony of dy ing men, the lone wife's misery.
Shake off shake off thy drowsiness, lille now away
we =
Below us spreads earth wrapt in gloom, above cloud
ed sky
The proud domes of the capital we're leaving far
behind
Our course is like the ghtnings shaft and swfter
than the wind.
But now above the swelling winds we lear the dis
1. tant roar
Ofwaves, that dash in madness against rock bound
Lake Erie spreads below its wild and stormy waste
Where gallant bank IN vain il battling with the
blast
port is near and life is DEAR and loved ones wait at
home-
But hope has fed, for ahead the angry breakers
foam
No beacon light to guide Alright CLEANS through the
midnight gloom
Beneath the wave the true and brave have found an
early tomb.
Dosr ask TO know why thus show this scene of
death to you
And what with matters o f the state shipwreck has
to do
know The wind you cannot bind, but you the purse
srggS bold,
A nd the lost bark's way to the sheIterng bay had
been CLEARED by the nations gold,
But that assent was by thee withheld-hy thee, the
nations chief;
Then thine is the deed that's made fond hearts bleed
aud happy homes filled with grief.
But we stay not here,-while the storm howls drear
the sailors funeral dirge-
Over field over wood, ever mountain and Hood our
Southwark flight Wen urge.
A city lies below US now, and through the gloom of
night,
From many lordy mansion stream CLEANS of bril-
liant light;
O'er them we pause motifs not there the misery
should be sought,
The wreck of human happiness, which thou myself
hast wrought
But DER lowly dwelling rapid flight Wen stay,
Where lonely widow mourns tor one who perished
far away,
Amid the horrors of the strfe when first our banner
Unfaed its graceful folds above the towers of Mon
ttrey.
The burning tears that are coursng fast adown her
wan, pale cheek,
And bursting sobs, a breaking heart, the depth of
misery speak;
And yet while she looks on her atherless babes, she
still strives TO repress
The prayer for vengeonce on his head who made them
faherless.
'Tis she's but woman tits true that she is poor,
'Tis tine there Jut few who care how much she
may endure;
But greater then should he the grief that his heart
should prey,
Who sacrificed her lest friend on the field of Mon
Urey.
Such scenes are there throughout the land and mauy
home like tls
Is there ia which hou's planted grief, from which
thnu'st banished bliss;
But now we leave them far behnd-away, away we
fly,
To where our gallant soldiers bleed beneath foreign
sky.
Now stay we in our rapid above the battle
Look down upon the CORY feld-look down upon the
List to the sIoan of agony, the shrek that ends the
mir,
And smile as to thy ear comes borne the dying sol
dier's prayer.
Does thy heat leap in thy breast exultngly, 10
find
That thou possessest power to work such misery on
thy kind.
Does not this seem glorious sight that meets thy
gazing eyci