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  gazed  on  the  landscape  far  and  near,

Then  impetuous  stamped  the  earth.
And  turned  and  tightened  his  saddle-girth ;


PAUL  HE  VERB'S  RIDE.  105

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  lo !  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  that  flies  fearless  and  fleet :

That  was  all  I     And  yet,  through  the  gloom  and  tne

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.
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  when  the  sun  goes  down.
It  was  one  by  the  village  clock,
When  he  rode  into  Lexington.
He  saw  the  gilded  weathercock
Sv^im  in  the  moonlight  as  he  passed,


Io6  PAUL   REVERES  RIDE.
