Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1878-05-01
Retry.
From tho Atlantic MoRIly for May,
THn CAPTAINS DRUM,
~ BENJAMIN y, TAyLOR,


Enfield, CoHHeciieut, april, 1875,
IN Pilgrim lAnd, ono Sabbath day.
Tho winter lay like sheep about
The ragged pastures mullen grsyI
Tho April sun shOne IN aud out,
Tho showers SWEET by IN fttul aocks,
And eyes licked fast like mantel eiookaj
Aud nov aud then wealthy cloud
Would wear ribbon broad and bright,
And nov aud then winged crowd
Of shiVerIng azure fash In sight.
SO rainbOws bond and blnehlrda dy
Aud yOlei6 show their bits OF sky,
To Enaeld church throug all tho town,
In quilted hood and bOmbazine,
In beaver hat with harlng crown,
And quaint yGndyke and yctorine
Aud bultoned boys Ia roundabout
From calys cOlarn blossom out
iandansS wave their fooble ilro,
Aud foot Btoyea tnklo up tho isle
A gray.halrod elder leads tho choir.
Aud girls In lnaCy.woolsey smile.
So back to life tho beings glide
Whose very graves have obuod aud died.
ono hundred years have wmod, and yct
Wo call tho roll, aud not In vain,
For ono whose Ant.loek musket sot
Tho echoes wild round Fort Duquesne,
And fmclled tho battles powder smoke
Ere Royolution's thunder woke,
Lo, Thomas Abbo answers, "llere !"
Within tho dull long-motro place.
That day, upon hcparson's oar,
And trampling down his words Of grace,
4 horsoman's gallop rudcly beat
tlong tho splashcd and empty street.
Tho rider drew his dripping ron,
And then letter, wasp-nost gray,
That ran Tho Concord minuto.men
And rod coats had q fight to-day
70 Captain Abbo this with speed"
Twelve little words to tell tho decd.
The captain read, struck out for home
Tho old quickstep Of battle born
Slung on onco more battered drum
That bore painted unicorn,
Then right. about, as whirll torch
He stood before tho sacred porch.
And then murmuripg CT bees
Broke in upon tho house Of prayer
Aud then wild-song swept the trees,
And then snari f'e-' wollish lair
And then Il charge Of grenadiors.
And then flight Of drum boat cheers.
So drum and doctrine rudely blent,
The easements ratified strange accord;
No mortal knew what either meant
Twas double. drag and Holy Word,
Thus saith the drum, and thus tho Lord.
Tho captain raised 80 wild rout
He drummed tho congregation out.
The people gathered round amazed;
Tho soldier barred his head and spoke,
And every sentence burned and blazed,
As trenchant as sabre stroke:
" 'Tis time to pick the flint to-day,
TO sling the knapsack, and away
''The green of Lexington is red
With British red-coats, brothers blood
In rightful cause the earliest dead
Arc always best beloved Of God.
Mark time Now let the march begin
All bound for Boston fall right in !"
Then rub-a-dub tho drum Jared on.
The throbbing roll of battle beat:
"Fall in. my men !" and one by one
They rhymed the tune with heart and feet
And 80 they made Sabbath march
10 glory meath the elm-tree arch.
Tho Continental line unwound
Along the churchyard's breathless sod,
And holier grew the hallowed ground
Where Virtue slept and Valor trod
Two hundred strong that April day
They rallied out and marched away.
Brigaded there at Bunker Hill,
Their names are writ on Glory's page.
The brave old captains Sunday drill
Has drunmed its way across the age.