I stood at Stillwater, the Lakes and White Plains,
And offered for freedom to empty my veins!
"Dost now ask me, child, since thou hear'st here I've been,
Why my brow is so furrowed, my locks white and thin--
Why this faded eye cannot go by the line,
Trace out little beauties, and sparkle like thine;
Or why so unstable this tremulous knee,
Who bore 'sixty years since,' such perils for thee?
"What! sobbing so quick? are the tears going to start?
Come! lean thy young head on thy grandfather's heart!
It has not much longer to glow with the joy
I feel thus to clasp thee, so noble a boy!
But when in earth's bosom it long has been cold,
A man, thou'lt recall, what, a babe, thou art told."
=Captain Kidd=.
There's many a one who oft has heard
The name of Robert Kidd,
Who cannot tell, perhaps, a word
Of him, or what he did.
So, though I never saw the man,
And lived not in his day;
I'll tell you how his guilt began--
To what it paved the way.
'Twas in New York Kidd had his home;
And there he left his wife
And children, when he went to roam,
And lead a seaman's life.
Now Robert had as firm a hand,
A heart as stern and brave,
As ever met in one on land,
Or on the briny wave.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96