But though his corse be grim to see,

Hoof-trampled on the sod,

What recks it, when the spirit free
Has soared aloft to God?

"Twere sweet, indeed, to close our eyes,
With those we cherish near,
And wafted upwards by their sighs,
Soar to some calmer sphere.
But whether on the scaffold high,
Or in the battle's van,

The fittest place where man can die

Is where he dies for man!

MICHAEL JOSEPH BARRY.

CONCORD FIGHT.1

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.

The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;

And Time the ruined bridge has swept

Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

On the green bank, by this soft stream,

We set to-day a votive stone;

2

That memory may her dead redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

Spirit, that made those heroes dare
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.

R. W. EMERSON.

1 The battle of Concord, Mass., April 19, 1775, was the opening battle of the Revolution. "There," as Emerson says, "the Americans first shed British blood." This hymn was sung at the completion of the battle monument erected April 19, 1836, on the bank of Concord River.

2 Votive stone: a stone or monument raised in grateful commemoration of some event.

PAUL REVERE'S RIDE.

LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,1
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five:
Hardly a man is now alive

Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British march

By land or sea from the town to-night,

1 Paul Revere: At the outbreak of the Revolution, large quantities of provisions and ammunition were stored at Concord, Mass., for the American provincial army. Concord is about eighteen miles from Boston. General Gage, who had the command of the British troops in Boston, determined to destroy the "rebel stores at that town, and sent a detachment of eight hundred troops for this purpose, and also to arrest the "traitors," John Hancock and Samuel Adams, who were then at Lexington.

The British troops embarked secretly on the night of April 18, 1775, and crossing over from Boston to Cambridge, began their march to Concord by way of Lexington.

But the Boston patriots were on the alert, and as soon as it was known that the British had started, Paul Revere was sent to give the alarm. Mounting a swift horse at Charlestown, opposite Boston, he succeeded in reaching Lexington in time to warn Hancock and Adams of their danger, and then started for Concord, but was stopped by British troops at Lincoln, and brought back to Lexington. Dr. Samuel Prescott of Concord had been passing the evening at Lexington, and he carried the alarm to Concord.

The British succeeded in destroying a considerable part of the supplies at that place and then began the memorable march back to Boston.

They were hotly pursued by the enraged farmers, and their march soon became a retreat, and running retreat at that. When they reached Lexington and stopped to rest, it is said that their tongues hung out of their mouths "like dogs after a chase." Had it not been for reinforcements, few of them would ever have reached Boston; as it was, their loss was very heavy.

Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry-arch
Of the North-Church 1 tower, as a signal-light, -
One if by land, and two if by sea;

And I on the opposite shore 2 will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country-folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said good-night, and with muffled oar
Silently row'd to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war:

A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon, like a prison-bar,

And a huge, black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile his friend, through alley and street
Wanders and watches with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack-door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climb'd to the tower of the church,
Up the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry-chamber overhead,

And startled the pigeons from their perch

1 The North Church: Christ Church, Salem Street, Boston. It still stands, and bids fair to do so for at least another century.

2 Opposite shore: the Charlestown shore, opposite Boston.

On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade;
Up the light ladder, slender and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the quiet town,
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the church-yard, lay the dead
In their night-encampment on the hill,
Wrapp'd in silence so deep and still,
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,

And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell

Of the place and the hour, the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay, -
A line of black, that bends and floats
On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurr'd, with a heavy stride,
On the opposite shore walk'd Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,

Now gazed on the landscape far and near,
Then impetuous stamp'd the earth,
And turn'd and tighten'd his saddle-girth ;
But mostly he watch'd with eager search
The belfry-tower of the old North Church,