The Rutland daily globe. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1873-1877, 1877-08-09
BENNINGTON.

Shone down on Champlaln's tide
Saw there proud England's banner wave
And there ten thousand chosen brave
Come sailing DER the tide.
The Wanting leader proudly comes
With stirring sound OF rolling drums,
And trump that sings Of fame,
He hopes to write on glory'5 page,
To shine far down to distant age
His own high sounding name.
with England's soldiers of the line
The German warriors from the Rhine
And the wild forest banda
lie drives people from their homes
Or rears his trophies DER their tombs
With bloody savage hands.
Ticonderoga's crumbling walls
Before his blast as quickly falls,
AS Jerlcho's. OF old;
And where Its flying soldiers fed
The barracks midnight burning red
With flaming tongues unfold.
His conquefing banner proudly waves
Ger red Hubbardton'5 bloody graves
In haoghty triumph high,
And on his marching music roll'd
Through the aisles OF the forrest old
Up to the vaulted sky.
The mountain boys are still uncowed,
"Hang on his left like gathering cloud"
That bears the bolt on high:
And from that cloud the lightning came
That struck to earth his rising fame
To wither blast and die.
1t wrote upon the mountain wall,
Meme Tekel, the tyrants fall
Ia letters Of bloody stain;
That threw their Hurled light,
Across the deepening night,
On saratoga's plain.
Bennington! On historic page,
That name shall live from age to age,
Far down the path OF time;
While gallant deeds are nobly done
And freedoms battles bravely won,
With purest faith sublime.
For on thy hills the tempest broke,
And in thy wales voice awoke
That ever onward rings;
And servile foemans cleaning steel
Hero drew that awful thunder peal
That shook the throne Of kings.
They listen still, with awe and wonder,
At that continued clap OF thunder"
Which echoes now, and ever;
When nations struggle In their might
And strike for freedom and for right,
With great endeavor.
A hundred years, have passed away,
Since the foeman's dread array
Crowned thy wooded hills.
And thy childrens patriot blood,
Turned TO red, the crystal flood
OF thy mountain rllls.
A hundred times, the winter SHOWS,
A hundred times, the summer rose
Has come and gone,
since clrcling round, their country's foes,
The people, In their might arose,
And freedoms battle won.
Since Baume bowed low, his naughty head
To rest upon that bed,
That valiant sosdiers gain;
When for the banner OF their pride,
They seek to stay the battles tide,
And strive, and strive In vain.
Since Breyman led along the glen,
His swarthy ranks OF iron men,
Who moved TO beat OF drum,
With steady step, In martial pride
With scornful shout their foes deride,
And cry, come, Yankees come.
The mountain men with Warner came,
His sword on high, like leaping flame
Flashed back the setting sun,
Before its blows the braggrats reel,
AS II the fierce avenging steel
Remembers Hubbardton.
And Stark here wrote his honored name
High on the granite hills OF fame,
Among the truly great;
Who guide the banners of the free,
Along the paths OF victory
And save a struggling state.
His 'Molly" too, whose parting kiss,
Both move his heart In hour like this
"she sleeps no widow" now,
But long doth live to gently Irvine.
The myrtle with the laurel vine
Around her hero's brow.
The victors OF that bloody day
Have from these scenes long PASSED away
But every worthy son
VIII strive to keep from age to age,
Unstainsd, that priceless heritage
Their valiant fathers won.
Their martial spirit will not die,
Their nag, still noats triumphantly
On the pure mountain air;
o, may their civic virtues Irvine
And bloom around its emblem pine,
Forever, bright and fair.
And shine with glory like that star,
That sent its cheering radience far.
Ger mountain hill and glen,
When the bright angelic band,
Came floating DER fair Judea's fand
And sung good win to men.