 | Poems |  |
116
A TALE OF OTHER DAYS.
PRELUDE—extempore.
Have ye not heard of captain Shays?
Sing Io—ioway
Who figured once in former days?
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
Who figured once in former days?
And jang malang-go lay!
O, was he not a soldier brave?
Sing Io—ioway
But yet a most consummate knave?
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
But yet a most consummate knave?
And jang malang-go lay!
Peace bade our revolution close,
Sing Io—ioway
And we were free from foreign foes.
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
And we were free from foreign foes.
And jang malang-go lay!
But Shays, red-reeking from the fight,
Sing Io—ioway
Proclaimed aloud all was not right.
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
Proclaimed aloud all was not right.
And jang malang-go lay!
Our war had cost us many fold
Sing Io—ioway
Of dollars bright and guineas gold.
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
Of dollars bright and guineas gold.
And jang malang-go lay!
The debt did heavy on us lie,
Sing Io—ioway
And so our taxes waxed high.
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
And so our taxes waxed high.
And jang malang-go lay!
So captain Shays got up and cried
Sing Io—ioway
Is it for this I 've bled and died?
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
Is it for this I 've bled and died?
And jang malang-go lay!
For liberty I 've drawn the blade,
Sing Io—ioway
And now I'll fight to be obeyed.
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
117
And jang malang-go lay!
These heavy taxes shall not be
Sing Io—ioway
Imposed on those who'll follow me.
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
Imposed on those who'll follow me.
And jang malang-go lay!
And so he roused a warlike band,
Sing Io—ioway
And he was honored with command.
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
And he was honored with command.
And jang malang-go lay!
Awhile he marched about and roared,
Sing Io—ioway
Till like poor Logic he was floored.
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
Till like poor Logic he was floored.
And jang malang-go lay!
Now I will tell a story you,
Sing Io—ioway
'T is very strange but very true.
And jang malang-go lay!
Sing Io—ioway
'T is very strange but very true.
And jang malang-go lay!
Now Winter with his frosty breath,
His icy beard and snowy wreath,
Had piled his drifts in every nook,
And locked in fetters every brook—
When our now old, then infant state,
Convened her council for debate.
For captain Shays, and his mad band,
With boastful threats had filled the land,
And published loud his wild intent
To model new her government,
That Massachusetts then might be
The home of outlaws such as he.
Poor man! his scheme succeeded ill;
He felt at last his froward will
Come home with vengeance on his head—
His courage failed—his foll'wers fled.
When this was done, our government
Throughout the state her sheriffs sent,
Shays and his officers to take,
And try them for example's sake.
By chance it fell one vengeful scout
Came seeking rebels hereabout.
On the north line of Gill, (a town
Since formed, and birth-place of my own,)
From whence Wa-pe-sa-pe-na-con
Comes winding in its channel on,
The scene took place which I relate—
A scene of blood and tragic fate.
His icy beard and snowy wreath,
Had piled his drifts in every nook,
And locked in fetters every brook—
When our now old, then infant state,
Convened her council for debate.
For captain Shays, and his mad band,
With boastful threats had filled the land,
And published loud his wild intent
To model new her government,
That Massachusetts then might be
The home of outlaws such as he.
Poor man! his scheme succeeded ill;
He felt at last his froward will
Come home with vengeance on his head—
118
When this was done, our government
Throughout the state her sheriffs sent,
Shays and his officers to take,
And try them for example's sake.
By chance it fell one vengeful scout
Came seeking rebels hereabout.
On the north line of Gill, (a town
Since formed, and birth-place of my own,)
From whence Wa-pe-sa-pe-na-con
Comes winding in its channel on,
The scene took place which I relate—
A scene of blood and tragic fate.
The short-lived winter day was past
And coldly sped the evening blast.
A rebel leader from the fight
That ended in disasterous flight,
Had hither sought his peaceful home
Where fighting yet had never come;
And by his evening fireside sat,
Holding with friends familiar chat,
When sounds without assailed his ear,
Like hasty footsteps drawing near.
Alarmed, too well he knew the cause—
'T was a stern message from the laws!
With gun in hand he quickly fled,
And thro' the open forest sped;
While in his rear the vengeful pack
Followed like blood-hounds on his track.
At length a sheriff, drawing nigh,
Cried out “Surrender, wretch, or die!”
But, nothing daunted, the Shaysite
Outstripped the summoner in flight.
It fanned to flame the sheriff's ire—
He aimed his gun—it failed to fire.
Ye may suppose the rebel's blood
Was boiling like a raging flood;
And when he knew his foe's intent,
His thoughts on dark revenge were bent.
The forest echoed to his gun—
The fell work of revenge was done!
And coldly sped the evening blast.
A rebel leader from the fight
That ended in disasterous flight,
Had hither sought his peaceful home
Where fighting yet had never come;
And by his evening fireside sat,
Holding with friends familiar chat,
When sounds without assailed his ear,
Like hasty footsteps drawing near.
Alarmed, too well he knew the cause—
'T was a stern message from the laws!
With gun in hand he quickly fled,
And thro' the open forest sped;
While in his rear the vengeful pack
Followed like blood-hounds on his track.
At length a sheriff, drawing nigh,
Cried out “Surrender, wretch, or die!”
But, nothing daunted, the Shaysite
Outstripped the summoner in flight.
119
He aimed his gun—it failed to fire.
Ye may suppose the rebel's blood
Was boiling like a raging flood;
And when he knew his foe's intent,
His thoughts on dark revenge were bent.
The forest echoed to his gun—
The fell work of revenge was done!
The scene is changed to dungeon dark,
Where felons pine in durance stark;
For here our hero next was cast,
His limbs in iron shackles fast.
To pay the forfeit of his crime
He waited the appointed time,
For law had sentenced him to die,
And the doomed day was drawing nigh.
At length it came with due parade,
And men of every rank and grade,
The high, the low, the rich, the poor,
The snowy white and blackamoor,
Anxious and eager, thronged to see
The death upon the gallows-tree.
The soldiers, uniformed and bright,
Their muskets glancing in the light,
Moved to the death-march slow along,
With the poor wretch amid the throng.
They came to where the gallows gloomed,
And up the ladder went the doomed.
He stood upon the scaffold high
And gazed about him mournfully;
He felt the fresh and balmy air,
He saw the earth with blossoms fair,
(For long and weary months had flown
Since he was in confinement thrown.)
He felt 't was hard to leave the earth
When Nature seemed to smile in mirth:
Connecticut that rolled in pride,
The verdant plains out-spreading wide,
The birds in every leafy tree
Chaunting aloud their melody,
The glorious sun that lit the sky—
It was—it was too hard to die!
He turned and took a last survey
Of nature in her bright array;
Then calmly yielded to his fate,
And silently did death await.
So while he stood, tradition saith,
Trembling upon the verge of death,
A knight attendant did unroll
And holding up a written scroll,
In tone of voice, both clear and loud,
Read to the anxious, listening crowd,
In the high name of this our state—
As merciful, as just and great—
Pronouncing pardon, full and free,
For him whose death they came to see.
The shivering wretch no sooner heard
Pronounced that sovereign, welcome word,
Than down he sunk in heavy swoon—
And so my simple tale is done.
Where felons pine in durance stark;
For here our hero next was cast,
His limbs in iron shackles fast.
To pay the forfeit of his crime
He waited the appointed time,
For law had sentenced him to die,
And the doomed day was drawing nigh.
At length it came with due parade,
And men of every rank and grade,
The high, the low, the rich, the poor,
The snowy white and blackamoor,
Anxious and eager, thronged to see
The death upon the gallows-tree.
The soldiers, uniformed and bright,
Their muskets glancing in the light,
Moved to the death-march slow along,
With the poor wretch amid the throng.
They came to where the gallows gloomed,
And up the ladder went the doomed.
He stood upon the scaffold high
And gazed about him mournfully;
He felt the fresh and balmy air,
He saw the earth with blossoms fair,
(For long and weary months had flown
Since he was in confinement thrown.)
120
When Nature seemed to smile in mirth:
Connecticut that rolled in pride,
The verdant plains out-spreading wide,
The birds in every leafy tree
Chaunting aloud their melody,
The glorious sun that lit the sky—
It was—it was too hard to die!
He turned and took a last survey
Of nature in her bright array;
Then calmly yielded to his fate,
And silently did death await.
So while he stood, tradition saith,
Trembling upon the verge of death,
A knight attendant did unroll
And holding up a written scroll,
In tone of voice, both clear and loud,
Read to the anxious, listening crowd,
In the high name of this our state—
As merciful, as just and great—
Pronouncing pardon, full and free,
For him whose death they came to see.
The shivering wretch no sooner heard
Pronounced that sovereign, welcome word,
Than down he sunk in heavy swoon—
And so my simple tale is done.
And now whoe'er the same shall read,
A moral, if he choose, may heed:
Be always sure your cause is right
Before you undertake to fight;
And rather than to risk the hope
Of pardon, when you feel the rope,
Attend the scriptural decree
And own as such the powers that be.
A moral, if he choose, may heed:
Be always sure your cause is right
Before you undertake to fight;
And rather than to risk the hope
Of pardon, when you feel the rope,
Attend the scriptural decree
And own as such the powers that be.
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