Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1861-01-03
A NEW POEM BY IoNaFnILow.


Listen, my children, and you shall hear
OF the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April in Scveny-flvc;
Hardly man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend-"If the British march
BY land or sea from the town tonight,
Hang II lantern nlOt in the belIry-arch
OF the North Church tower, as signal-light-
One IL by land and two If by sen;
And on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middesex village and farm,
For the country-iolk to be up and to arm"
Then he said good night. and with muiilcd oar
Silently rowcd to the Charlcstown shore,
just ns the moon orer the bay,
Where swinging wide ut her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man. -of-war:
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon, like prison bar,
And huge, black hulk, that was magnifed
BY its own reflection in the tide.
Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street
Wanders and watches with eager cars,
Til in the silence around him he hears
The muster Of meu MT the h'rrnckdgcr
The sound OF arms, and the tramp Of feet,
And the measured tread Of the grenaders
Marching down to their boats on the shore.
Then lie climbed to the tower of the church,
Up the wooden stairs with stealthy tread,
To the beliry-chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre ralters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade
Up the light ladder, slender and tall,
TO the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
moment on the roofs of the town,
And the moonlight flowing over all.
Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead
In their nght-encampmcnt on the hill
Wrapped in silence 50 deep and still,
That he could hear, like sentncis tread,
The watchu night-wind as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "A) is wel!''
A moment only he feels the spell
OF the place and the hour and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
| For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowv something far away,
| Where the river widens to meet the bay
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide, like IL bridge Of boats.
| Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
| Booted and spurred with heavy stride,
| On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
| Now he pated his horses side,
| Now he gazcd on the landscape far and near
| Then impetuous stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddlegrth;
| But mostly he watched with eager search
| The bcllry-towcr of the old North Church,
| As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral, sombre and still.
And 10! as he looks, on the befry's height,
glimmer and then CLEAN of light
| lie springs to the saddle the bride lie turns,
| But fingers and gaZes, till full on his sight
| a second lamp in the bcllry burns.
hurry of hoofs in village street,
| shape in the moonlight, n buk in the dark,
And beneath from the pebbles, in passing, spark
Struck out by Il steed that flies fearless and fleet:
That was all! And yet through the gloom and the g
| The fate of II nation riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that seed in his iligf
| Kinded the land into fame with its heat.
1t was twelve by the village clock,
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the growing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmers dog,
And felt the damp of the river-og,
That rises when tie sun goes down.
1t was one by the village clock
When he rode into Lexington,
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight ms lie passed,
And the meeting house windows, blank and bare,
Gaze at him with n spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would not look upon.
l. was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleHting of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath Of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadows brown.
And one was safe and asleep in the bed
Who ut the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket-ba
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,
From behind each fence and tannyard wall,
I Chasing the red-coats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load
So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry Of alarm
TO every Middlesex village and farm
cry Of defiance, and not Of fear,-
voice in the darkness, knock at the door,
5 And n word that shall echo for evermorc
= For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
. Through all our history, to the last,
e In the hour of darkness and peril and need
The people will waken ard listen to hear
:, The hurrying hooi beat Of that steed
i. And the midnight message of Paul Revere.