‘TIS over, Moses! All is lost!
I hear the bells a-ringing;
Of Pharaoh and his Red Sea host
I hear the Free-Wills singing.*
We’re routed, Moses, horse and foot,
If there be truth in figures,
With Federal Whigs in hot pursuit,
And Hale, and all the “niggers.”
Alack! alas! this month or more
We’ve felt a sad foreboding;
Our very dreams the burden bore
Of central cliques exploding;
Before our eyes a furnace shone,
Where heads of dough were roasting,
And one we took to be your own
The traitor Hale was toasting!
Our Belknap brother* heard with awe
The Congo minstrels playing;
At Pittsfield Reuben Leavitt* saw
The ghost of Storrs a-praying;
And Carroll’s woods were sad to see,
With black-winged crows a-darting;
And Black Snout looked on Ossipee,
New-glossed with Day and Martin.
We thought the “Old Man of the Notch”
His face seemed changing wholly –
His lips seemed thick; his nose seemed flat;
His misty hair looked woolly;
And Co
(John Greenleaf Whittier)
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Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, Singing Poems, Ghost Poems, Horse PoemsBased on Keywords: a-ringing, toasting, carroll, ossipee, black-winged, leavitt, a-praying, cliques, pittsfield, storrs