Classic Poem

Fierce was the wind—a whirlwind blew—
And robbers round in ambush lay,
When fearless of the midnight crew
Young M ARTIUS took his dreary way.

Tho' Hounslow's dire tremendous name
Might strike the noblest mind aghast,
And ev'n the valiant son of fame
Might feel a caitiff's blow at last!

Now friendship! send thy ardent prayer!—
Darker and darker still it grows!
With piercing eye and watchful care
No more, alas, the road he knows.

One dismal gloom encircles all
And ev'ry step the more betrays,—
When lo, as if at friendship's call
A friendly lantern shews its blaze!

A hobbling dame with all her power,
Who heard him from her distant cot,
Tho' chill'd with many a winter's hour,
Cou'd pity still the stranger's lot!

She cried—“and wherefore O my son
“And wherefore, in a night like this
“Is such a risque so rashly run?
“You must not take advice amiss—

“You're welcome to this humble light,
“And that experience too may lend,
“But think not ev'ry stormy night
“To meet with lanterns—and a friend!”

Two guineas new, and bright, and fair,
The grateful M ARTIUS freely took—
No power of verse cou'd now declare
O paint th' astonish'd grannam's look.—

“Take it dear dame' he cries “'tis right
“Amid this world of care and sorrow,
“As you have help'd me on to night
“That I shou'd help you on tomorrow.”