Sidney Lanier

[Sidenote: April 19, 1775]
The skirmish at Lexington and the fight at Concord closed all political bickering between Great Britain and her colonies and began the War of the Revolution. The following verses are a fragment of the "Psalm of the West."

  Then haste ye, Prescott and Revere!
  Bring all the men of Lincoln here;
  Let Chelmsford, Littleton, Carlisle,
  Let Acton, Bedford, hither file--
  Oh, hither file, and plainly see
  Out of a wound leap Liberty.

  Say, Woodman April! all in green,
  Say, Robin April! hast thou seen
  In all thy travel round the earth
  Ever a morn of calmer birth?
  But Morning's eye alone serene
  Can gaze across yon village-green
  To where the trooping British run
        Through Lexington.
  Good men in fustian, stand ye still;
  The men in red come o'er the hill,
  _Lay down your arms, damned rebels!_ cry
  The men in red full haughtily.
  But never a grounding gun is heard;
  The men in fustian stand unstirred;
  Dead calm, save maybe a wise bluebird
  Puts in his little heavenly word.
  O men in red! if ye but knew
  The half as much as bluebirds do,
  Now in this little tender calm
  Each hand would out, and every palm
  With patriot palm strike brotherhood's stroke
  Or ere these lines of battle broke.

  O men in red! if ye but knew
  The least of all that bluebirds do,
  Now in this little godly calm
  Yon voice might sing the Future's Psalm--
  The Psalm of Love with the brotherly eyes
  Who pardons and is very wise--
  Yon voice that shouts, high-hoarse with ire,
      _Fire!_

  The red-coats fire, the homespuns fall:
  The homespuns' anxious voices call,
  _Brother, art hurt?_ and _Where hit, John?_
  And, _Wipe this blood_, and _Men, come on_,
  And _Neighbor, do but lift my head_,
  And _Who is wounded? Who is dead?
  Seven are killed. My God! my God!
  Seven lie dead on the village sod.
  Two Harringtons, Parker, Hadley, Brown,
  Monroe and Porter,--these are down._
  _Nay, look! stout Harrington not yet dead._
  He crooks his elbow, lifts his head.
  He lies at the step of his own house-door;
  He crawls and makes a path of gore.
  The wife from the window hath seen, and rushed;
  He hath reached the step, but the blood hath gushed;
  He hath crawled to the step of his own house-door,
  But his head hath dropped: he will crawl no more.
  Clasp Wife, and kiss, and lift the head,
  Harrington lies at his doorstep dead.

  But, O ye Six that round him lay
  And bloodied up that April day!
  As Harrington fell, ye likewise fell--
  At the door of the House wherein ye dwell;
  As Harrington came, ye likewise came
  And died at the door of your House of Fame.