Paul Revere's Ride
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`Page 1 of 4
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`Up to the EServer I UQ to the Poetry Collection
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`Paul Revere's Ride
`
`Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
`
`
`Listen my children and you shall hear
`Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
`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,
`Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
`Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--
`One if by land, and two if by sea;
`And I on the opposite shore 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 rowed 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 climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
`By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
`To the belfry chamber overhead,
`And startled the pigeons from their perch
`On the sombre rafters, that round him made
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`Page 1
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`Page 1 of 4
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`Up to the EServer I UQ to the Poetry Collection
`
`Paul Revere's Ride
`
`Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
`
`
`Listen my children and you shall hear
`Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
`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,
`Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
`Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--
`One if by land, and two if by sea;
`And I on the opposite shore 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 rowed 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 climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
`By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
`To the belfry chamber overhead,
`And startled the pigeons from their perch
`On the sombre rafters, that round him made
`
`Page 1
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`Paul Revere's Ride
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`Page 2 of4
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`To the highest window in the wall,
`Where he paused to listen and look down
`A moment on the roofs of the town
`
`And the moonlight flowing over all.
`
`Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
`In their night encampment on the hill,
`Wrapped 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, and 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 spurred, with a heavy stride
`On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
`Now he patted his horse's side,
`Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
`Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
`And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
`But mostly he watched with eager search
`The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
`As it rose above the graves on the hill,
`Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
`And 10! as he looks, on the belfry's height
`A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
`He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
`But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
`A second lamp in the belfry burns.
`
`A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
`A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
`And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
`Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
`That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
`The fate of a nation was riding that night;
`And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
`Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
`
`He has left the village and mounted the steep,
`And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
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`Paul Revere's Ride
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`Page 3 of 4
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`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 farmer's 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, black 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
`Blowing over the meadow brown.
`And one was safe and asleep in his bed
`Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
`Who that day would be lying dead,
`Pierced by a British musket ball.
`
`You know the rest. In the books you have read
`How the British Regulars fired and fled,—--
`How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
`>From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
`Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
`Then crossing the fields to emerge again
`Under 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 for evermore!
`
`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
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`Paul Revere's Ride
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`Page 4 of4
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`And the midnight message of Paul Revere.
`
`This poem is one of many published by the EServer, a non-profit collective of students and faculty at
`Iowa State University.
`
`Page 4
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