| |
1630 ALL overgrown with bush and fern, | |
| And straggling clumps of tangled trees, | |
| With trunks that lean and boughs that turn, | |
| Bent eastward by the mastering breeze,— | |
| With spongy bogs that drip and fill | 5 |
| A yellow pond with muddy rain, | |
| Beneath the shaggy southern hill | |
| Lies wet and low the Shawmut plain. | |
| And hark! the trodden branches crack; | |
| A crow flaps off with startled scream; | 10 |
| A straying woodchuck canters back; | |
| A bittern rises from the stream; | |
| Leaps from his lair a frightened deer; | |
| An otter plunges in the pool;— | |
| Here comes old Shawmut’s pioneer, | 15 |
| The parson on his brindled bull! | |
| |
1774 THE STREETS are thronged with trampling feet, | |
| The northern hill is ridged with graves, | |
| But night and morn the drum is beat | |
| To frighten down the “rebel knaves.” | 20 |
| The stones of King Street still are red, | |
| And yet the bloody red-coats come: | |
| I hear their pacing sentry’s tread, | |
| The click of steel, the tap of drum, | |
| And over all the open green, | 25 |
| Where grazed of late the harmless kine, | |
| The cannon’s deepening ruts are seen, | |
| The war-horse stamps, the bayonets shine. | |
| The clouds are dark with crimson rain | |
| Above the murderous hirelings’ den, | 30 |
| And soon their whistling showers shall stain | |
| The pipe-clayed belts of Gage’s men. | |
| |
1869 AROUND the green, in morning light, | |
| The spired and palaced summits blaze, | |
| And, sunlike, from her Beacon-height | 35 |
| The dome-crowned city spreads her rays; | |
| They span the waves, they belt the plains, | |
| They skirt the roads with bands of white, | |
| Till with a flash of gilded panes | |
| Yon farthest hillside bounds the sight. | 40 |
| Peace, Freedom, Wealth! no fairer view, | |
| Though with the wild-bird’s restless wings | |
| We sailed beneath the noontide’s blue | |
| Or chased the moonlight’s endless rings! | |
| Here, fitly raised by grateful hands | 45 |
| His holiest memory to recall, | |
| The Hero’s, Patriot’s image stands; | |
| He led our sires who won them all! | |
| |
