| |
| I CAN see him, pale and slender, | |
| Playing by his father’s door; | |
| I can see him off for college | |
| With that manly smile he wore, | |
| Where he quaffed the cup of knowledge | 5 |
| Filled with freedom, truth and right | |
| Where he caught the burning spirit | |
| Which aroused men with its might. | |
| I behold him now a teacher | |
| Of the young and tender mind, | 10 |
| Winning love of child and parent | |
| By his deeds and manners kind; | |
| A companion of the pupil, | |
| Of the aged none the less, | |
| Idolized by every woman | 15 |
| For his grace and comeliness. | |
| |
| Here he lived as guide and teacher, | |
| While the Revolution flame | |
| Was as yet but dark and smould’ring, | |
| And himself unknown to fame. | 20 |
| Here he strolled along the river | |
| When his daily toil was o’er, | |
| Growing strong in mind and body | |
| For the future’s fateful store. | |
| I behold him off to battle, | 25 |
| Now a comely youth and strong, | |
| Filled with love of home and country, | |
| Filled with hate of Britain’s wrong; | |
| Now a captain of “The Rangers,” | |
| Fearless, dashing, “Congress Own;” | 30 |
| Teaching men by bold example, | |
| Bringing gloom to Britain’s throne. | |
| |
| I behold him in the harbor | |
| On that well remembered night | |
| With the British sloop in captive, | 35 |
| And the hungry men’s delight | |
| As they seized the rich provisions, | |
| Sweeter to a marked degree, | |
| Knowing that they were intended | |
| For their common enemy. | 40 |
| I can see him later passing | |
| Through the British lines of steel, | |
| Ever keen, alert, courageous, | |
| Filled with patriotic zeal. | |
| Then betrayal, and the capture, | 45 |
| And the gloom which spread afar | |
| When ’twas feared the daring “Ranger” | |
| Was a prisoner of war. | |
| |
| I behold now Rutger’s orchard | |
| On that morning red with crime, | 50 |
| When they led him forth undaunted | |
| Hard on Howe’s appointed time. | |
| O the God of war that morning | |
| Must have dropped a silent tear | |
| When were burned before his vision | 55 |
| Messages to kindred dear. | |
| But I see his eyes turn skyward | |
| With a look of triumph there, | |
| While his lips for one brief moment | |
| Moved as if in silent prayer. | 60 |
| Then those burning words immortal, | |
| Bringing shame to England’s crown: | |
| “I regret that for my country | |
| I’ve but one life to lay down!” | |
| |
