Classic Poem

The iron shoes clanked on the ground,
The great bay mare stood ready,—
A Narragansett pacer she,
Whose gait was swift and steady;
And the good man came with an anxious face
And took his way to the mounting-place.

The saddle bags were fully filled,
The saddle girths drawn tighter,
Full many a mile to ride that day—
The day could not be brighter;
But the pensive light in the good Friend's eyes
Showed him sad and tender, and true and wise.

For war and strife oppressed the land,
And want and destitution,
And pity moved the meetings all.
To take their contribution,
With Moses Brown, to Boston town,
Was the errand the good Friend started upon.

A letter to both of the chiefs he had,
Which set forth their friendly mission—
Asking their leave to pass through the lines
To succor every condition;
But no one could tell if the scheme would succeed,
For courage, and patience, and skill there was need.

His good wife stood, as he rode off,
And watched him slowly riding;
Back to the house her young cousin turned;
The dame's sweet voice came chiding,
He has something forgot; we had better wait,
For soon he will surely be back at the gate.

And up the lane rode College Tom
With a face of loving contrition,
And tenderly kissed his waiting wife,
And started again on his mission,
With courage made strong by the love of years,
Which time improves and age endears.