 | Specimens of American poetry |  |
4. PART IV.—THE BATTLE.
“Hold! thieves and murderers, on your lives,Bring pistols, scissors, carving knives,
And shed their impious gore:”
She caught the foremost by his coat,
Grasp'd with her sinewy hand his throat,
To dash him on the floor;
“A knife, a knife, fly quickly, fly,
Attack the villains or I die.
What, pistols, ho! is no one nigh?
Quick, minion, on thy life;
My castle for a gleaming steel,
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The deadly blow this arm can deal;
My kingdom for a knife!!—
Fire quick”—a flash beam'd ruddy bright,
A bullet took its erring flight
From smoking petronel.
Death now appear'd to call his court,
For soon, as if in playful sport,
A seeming victim fell.
“Off, from my hall, you scoundrels base,
Let no one longer show his face,
This is my own domain and place,
Let no damn'd slave deride it;
Who dares among you all to frown?
I paid in yonder distant town,
Each farthing of the money down,
The very hour I buy'd it.
Down with the huge portcullis straight,
Go, quick as lightning shut the gate,
The lowly villains bind;”
With that, she gave a hearty damn
To either knight, the gate goes slam,
And one remains behind:
Gleam'd in her hand the pointed knife,
'T is aim'd at that lone captive's life,
With many a deadly thrust;
The servants shudder with affright,
For never was a mortal wight
So handled, and so cursed.
Against such gentleness, such charms,
What knight could wield his missile arms?
Sure all must be subdued!
And he who tarried in her hold,
And saw her meek demeanor bold,
In cool amazement stood!!—
The chieftain with the waving crest
Felt some compunction in his breast,
And oped the gate again;
From whence the captive soon withdrew,
And oaths like hailstones after flew
In Eleusinian strain.
Thus ended, without blood or spoil,
The battle's rage and loud turmoil,
And imprecations vile;
From hence ye warriors all beware,
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And ever in your memories bear,
The battle of the isle.
| Specimens of American poetry | |