Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1874-05-25
THE RIDE OF COLLINS GRAVES.

AN INCIDENT OF THE FLOOD IN MASSACHUSETTS.
ON MAY III, 1874.
No song OF soldier riding down
To the raging fight from Winchester Town;
No song of time that shook the earth
With the nations throe at a nations birth;
But the song Of brave man. free from fear
As sheridan's self, or Paul Revere:
Who risked what they risked,-free from strife
And its promise of glorious pay,-his life.
The peaceful valley has walked and stirred,
And the answering echoes of life are heard;
The dew still clings to the trees and grass,
And the earlier toilers smiling pass,
AS they glance aside at the white-walled homes,
Or up the valley where merrily comes
The brook that sparkles in diamond riiis
As the sun comes over the Hampshire hills.
What was it, that passed like an ominous breath :?
Like shivcr Of fear or touch of death?
What was it? The valley is peaceful still,
And the leaves are afre on top of the hill;
1t was not a sound, nor thing Of sense
But PAIN like pang of the short suspense
That wraps the being of those who see
At their feet the gulf Of Eternity
The air Of the valley has felt the chill
The workers pause at the door of the mill;
The housewife, keen to the shivering air,
Arrests her foot on the cottage. stair,
Instructive taught by the mother.loye,
And thinks of the sleeping ones abovei
Why start the listeners? Why does the course
OF the mill-stream widen? Is it n horse
"Hark to the sounds of his hoofs," )" they say
That gallops so wildly Williamsburg way?
God What was that, like human Shrek,
Will nobody answer those women who cry
AS the awful warnings thunder by?
Whence como they? Listen And now they hear
The sound of the galloping horse-hoOfs near;
They watch the trend of the vale, and see
The rider, who thunders so menacingly,
With waving arms and warning scream
To the home filled banks of the valley stream
lie draws no rein, but he shakes the street
With shout and the ring of the galloping feet.
And this the cry that he filings to the wind:
"To the hNts for your Tires The .aood is behind
He cries and is gone; but they know the worst
The treacherous Williamsburg dam has burst
The besin that nourished their happy homes
Is changed to a demon-it comes it comes
monster in aspect, with shaggy front
OF shattered dwellings, to take the brunt
OF the dwellings they shatter-white named and
h0arse,
The merciless terror fills the course
OF the narrow valley, and rushing raves,
With Death on the first of its kissing waves,
Till cottage and street and crowded mill
Are crumbled and crushed. But onward STILL
In front Of the roaring food is heard
The galloping horse and the warning word.
Thank God, that the brave mans life is spared
From Williamsburg town he nobly dared
To race with the flood and to take the road
In front of the terrible swath it moved.
For miles it Numbered and crashed behind,
But he looked ahead with steadfast mind;
"They must be ,carnei" was all he said,
AS away on his terrible ride he sped.
When heroes are called for, bring the crown
To this Yankee rider; send him down
On the stream of time with the Curtius old
His decd as the Romans was brave and bold,
And the tale can as noble Thrill awake,
For he offered his life for the peoples cake.
John Boyle OReitlv, in the Boston Pilot.