The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1877-06-28
From the Cape Ann Advertiser.
The Ballad Of Margaret Doane.
By SARAH F. MEADER

Just back from the rush Of hurrying feet.
here the churchyard willows droop dark and lone.
And the dust falls thick from the city street,
bend to read from messy stone,
Here lies We body Of Ensign Give,
Killed at the battle Of Bunker Hill,
1775"
And close beside, in the shadows chill
Here rests the body of Margaret Doane
Spinstcr, aged 20 years"
\ carven cherub on one rough stone.
The other craven anchor bears
lis fifty years since Margaret Doane
W as laid to rest by the soldiers side
But hundred summers have flushed and flown
Sncc the dread June morn when the soldier died
Meath the sacred spell Of an old old tale
How tadeth the citys sights and sounds.
As we seek to raise the mystic veil
Or a hundred years from the grassy mounds
The green hill, crowned with its ancient graves
Slopes once again to the rivers flow,
Ana the landscape, mirored in placid waves,
W lth the sunsets splendor is all aglow.
IN yon dim street where ceaseless falls
The roar OF wheel and crash Of hoof.
\ lonely mansion lifts its walls.
The tall ems sweeping the gambrel roof;
Dainty and rich in the oaken halls
The wedding feast is spread with care
In the latticed chamber the sunset falls
On bridal garments rich and rare.
Tomorrow, please God, sweet Margaret Doane
TO Ensign Give gives hand and heart,
Her life and fortune, for love alone,
For veal or woe. till death shall part
She stands in the doorway. picture fair,
In old-tlme raiment, SO trim and neat,
The sun i'll the gold of her cushioned hair,
And the shattered roses about her feet
One round arm shading her sweet blue eyes
She bends 10 watch from the rose twined door
In blushIng tumult of glad surprise,
The dip and flash OF a fastening oar
Through shine and shadow, across the lawn
The maiden hastens to the wave-swcpt sand
W 18th the sweet, shy grace OF the timid fawn,
She waits for the clasp of her lovers hand.
But alas for the tidings he brings to night
Her check grows white and her heart is chill,
There's land bowed down with a Tyrants might
And Duty is stronger than Loves sweet will.
He tells her how. in the gathering night.
The patriot lcgons are marching on
And bids her'watch on the ChaIlestown height
For the free flag flung To the morning sun
Fond farewels spoken in sobbing breath,
In the gathering shadows he sped away
He. to the terrors of war and death,
She to her chamber TO watch and pray.
Through the long night watches nothought otsecp,
The maiden wrestled in hopeless PRAYER
W hlle the lover toiled on the frowning steep.
For the hopes Of nation had centered there.
On the grassy hill, meath the favoring sky,
The breastworks grew by stout arms flung;
On the British war-Ship the sentry's cry.
AIS well! AIS well on the night air rung
1t dawn arose on the startled air
The wild alarm of the royal gun
The roll Of drums and the trumpet's bare.
W lille the free flag. kissed by the rising sun
Floatcd and fell on the trcSh'ning breeze
Ger the silent bastionS against the sky.
Then the maiden rose from her Bonded knees
And gazed on the banner with kindling eye.
She watched from aflr through the dreadful day
The bayonet's flash and the sabrcs stroke.
And once, in the midst of the tiercest fray.
Through the rittcd veil of the lannon's smoke,
On the rampant fronting the battle storm.
Where the leaden hail swept all before,
She caught one glimpse of his manly form
And the pine tree banner he proudly bore.
This was the last From the bloody HILL
When the drums rolled out the sad retreat
They brought her soldier all cold and still
And laid him down at her waiting feet
With stony sorrow. too deep for tears
She took up the burden of life alone,
While the sun and storms of fifty wears
Had furrowed and faded the moss grown stone
Chill and sere with the frost and snow
And green again with the spring time dew
50 the beauty faded from lip and brow
And the deathcss love of her true heart grew
Al last at last grown weary and old
" 18th the burdens of three score wears and ten.
The tired head resting the bent form cold.
Her bridal morning has dawned again
Crowned with the glory of silver hair
Instead of the fragrant orange wreath
The dull eye set with a snnken stare
And the worn hands chill lis the heart beneath:
\ winding sheet for her bridal veil
The feSta hall but narrow cell
The wedding anthem a funeral wall,
The wedding bells but nournful knell
ASHES TO ashes and dust to dust
They laid her down by her lovers side
With never a hint of her fond hearts trust
Or the bli@hted life of the soldiers bride
The massive shaft where he fought and fell
For aye shall blazon the soldiers fame
But nought of her constancv to tell
Save moss grown stone, & 4 womans name
BELFAST, Me June ID, 1877