File:The courtship of Miles Standish and other poems (1910) (14592300588).jpg

Identifier: courtshipofmiles00long7 (find matches)
Title: The courtship of Miles Standish and other poems
Year: 1910 (1910s)
Authors: Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 1807-1882
Subjects: Standish, Myles, 1584?-1656
Publisher: New York, Grosset & Dunlap
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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tic, meeting the ocean tides;And under the alders, that skirt its edge,Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides. It was twelve by the village clock When he crossed the bridge into Medford town. He heard the crowing of the cock, And the barking of the farmers dog, And felt the damp of the river fog, That rises after the sun goes down. It was one by the village clock. When he galloped into Lexington. He saw the gilded weathercock Swim in the moonlight as he passed. And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare. Gaze at him with a spectral glare. As if they already stood aghast At the bloody work they would look upon. It was two by the village clock, When he came to the bridge in Concord town. He heard the bleating of the flock. And the twitter of birds among the trees, And felt the breath of the morning breeze PAUL REVERES RIDE 145 Blowing over the meadows brown.And one was safe and asleep in his bedWho at the bridge would be first to fall,
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146 PAUL REVERES RIDE Who that day would be lying dead,Pierced by a British musket-ball. You know the rest. In the books you have readHow the British Regulars fired and fled,—How the farmers gave them ball for ball.From behind each fence and farm-yard wall,Chasing the red-coats down the lane.Then crossing the fields to emerge againUnder 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,— A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo forevermore! For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, Through all our history, to the last. In the hour of darkness and peril and need, The people will waken and listen to hear The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed. And the midnight message of Paul Revere. THE BRIDGE. I STOOD on the bridge at midnight, As the clocks were striking the hour, And the moon

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