Brown Beauty's Ode, If that be Her Name
My owner Reverend Larkin never laid a hand
A Puritan true, gave me no name
Brown beauty by generic acclaim
He lent me for a moonlight ride
Revolutionary, he took a side
Met new, this shadowy man that crafted gold
The moon cast him a giant: bold!
Five-foot eight
He rode more tall than that
On a hybrid Morgan of thirteen hands
No noble birth, this merchantman
Surprised was I he rode so high
My back belayed no sway
No imbalance from his girth
His spurs not once engaged
He simply encouraged my gate
He gave me the bridle on a winding path
It pleased me; I had his faith
Off to the Mystic River, I turned,
His breath on my mane
Given a chance, he would send me just the same
A Lobster-back in Arlington Heights blocked our path
I would not disappoint by turning back
In pursuit, that loathsome English steed missed the turn on ice
His four horseshoes betrayed a grip as overwhelmed, one might
He laid on his side in the spring mud, not seen again this night
We picked up speed warned Hancock and Adams
Met two local horse,
High-moon was the night
Oh William Dawes a heavier ride
But made it just in time
Dr. Samuel Prescott on a medical round?
More likely courting Lady Millikan
He volunteered to spread the tide
Three men, three horse with one pursuit
Beset by 14 British Dragoons
Dawes and Prescott made their flight
Dear Paul, he was too far afield
Major Mitchell of the King's fifth
demanded answers under God
And planted a pistol where thoughts due spring
And threatened Paul to send him on
I am so proud of his response!
"Dear major, fire away
Bring on 500 minute men from Lexington way"
The good officer considered his well being
Major ordered him to dismount
My master was set a fleeting
On jumped a burly lobsterback
We hastened east in formation
The muskets roared from my rear
Two cannon in my front
The burly sergeant stopped bridling me
Miles forth he lost his grip
I saw him drag behind
My lightened load was a brief respite
There was no reprieve from this fight
The distance back to Charlestown meadow
miles beyond my wind
I knew no way home, no way out
smoke to my left, hills to my right
Fires raging, desperate yelling
redcoats reaching for my halter
horrific sounds and sights to me
sixteen hours and sixteen miles I galloped all night
Arresting in Menotomy!
My last thoughts in life, so dear
were the gentle hands of Paul Revere
My owner Reverend Larkin never laid a hand
A Puritan true, gave me no name
Brown beauty by generic acclaim
He lent me for a moonlight ride
Revolutionary, he took a side
Met new, this shadowy man that crafted gold
The moon cast him a giant: bold!
Five-foot eight
He rode more tall than that
On a hybrid Morgan of thirteen hands
No noble birth, this merchantman
Surprised was I he rode so high
My back belayed no sway
No imbalance from his girth
His spurs not once engaged
He simply encouraged my gate
He gave me the bridle on a winding path
It pleased me; I had his faith
Off to the Mystic River, I turned,
His breath on my mane
Given a chance, he would send me just the same
A Lobster-back in Arlington Heights blocked our path
I would not disappoint by turning back
In pursuit, that loathsome English steed missed the turn on ice
His four horseshoes betrayed a grip as overwhelmed, one might
He laid on his side in the spring mud, not seen again this night
We picked up speed warned Hancock and Adams
Met two local horse,
High-moon was the night
Oh William Dawes a heavier ride
But made it just in time
Dr. Samuel Prescott on a medical round?
More likely courting Lady Millikan
He volunteered to spread the tide
Three men, three horse with one pursuit
Beset by 14 British Dragoons
Dawes and Prescott made their flight
Dear Paul, he was too far afield
Major Mitchell of the King's fifth
demanded answers under God
And planted a pistol where thoughts due spring
And threatened Paul to send him on
I am so proud of his response!
"Dear major, fire away
Bring on 500 minute men from Lexington way"
The good officer considered his well being
Major ordered him to dismount
My master was set a fleeting
On jumped a burly lobsterback
We hastened east in formation
The muskets roared from my rear
Two cannon in my front
The burly sergeant stopped bridling me
Miles forth he lost his grip
I saw him drag behind
My lightened load was a brief respite
There was no reprieve from this fight
The distance back to Charlestown meadow
miles beyond my wind
I knew no way home, no way out
smoke to my left, hills to my right
Fires raging, desperate yelling
redcoats reaching for my halter
horrific sounds and sights to me
sixteen hours and sixteen miles I galloped all night
Arresting in Menotomy!
My last thoughts in life, so dear
were the gentle hands of Paul Revere