Following our War of Independence in September, 1783, Americans have artistically commemorated events of the Revolution and the colonies fight for independence from England. Here are some of poetry and paintings for you to enjoy as we celebrate 234 years of Independence this month.
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| The Boston Tea Party, December 16, 1773 |
A Ballad of the Boston Tea Party
Oliver Wendell Holmes, 1874
The waves that wrought a century's wreck
Have rolled o'er whig and tory;
The Mohawks on the Dartmouth's deck
Still live in song and story;
The waters in the rebel bay
Have kept the tea-leaf savor;
Our old North-Enders in their spray
Still taste a Hyson flavor;
And Freedom's teacup still o'erflows
With ever fresh libations,
To cheat of slumber all her foes
And cheer the wakening nations!
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| Paul Revere's Midnight Ride Paul Revere rode through Boston on April 18, 1775 |
Paul Revere’s Ride (excerpt)
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1860
Written on the eve of the Civil War to inspire citizens to enlist.
Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five:
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,--
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo forevermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.
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| Battle of Concord, April 19, 1775 The Shot Heard 'Round the World by Domenick D'Andrea |
Concord Hymn
Ralf Waldo Emerson, 1837
The original title was "Hymn: Sung at the Completion of the Concord Monument, April 19, 1836". The line "the shot heard round the world" has become a famous phrase reminding us of the commencement of the American Revolution at Concord, Massachusetts.
By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood
And fired the shot heard round the world.
The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.
On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set today a votive stone;
That memory may their deed redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.
Spirit, that made those heroes dare
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.
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| Signing of United States Constitution in 1787 by Howard Chandler Christy (1939) |
A Nation’s Strength
Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1847
Not gold but only men can make
A people great and strong;
Men who for truth and honor’s sake
Stand fast and suffer long.
Brave men who work while others sleep,
Who dare while others fly...
They build a nation’s pillars deep
And lift them to the sky.
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| Washington Crossing the Delaware by Emanuel Leutze (1851) |
The Sonnet
David Shulman 1936
A hard, howling, tossing water scene.
Strong tide was washing hero clean.
"How cold!" Weather stings as in anger.
O Silent night shows war ace danger!
The cold waters swashing on in rage.
Redcoats warn slow his hint engage.
When star general's action wish'd "Go!"
He saw his ragged continentals row.
Ah, he stands – sailor crew went going.
And so this general watches rowing.
He hastens – winter again grows cold.
A wet crew gain Hessian stronghold.
George can't lose war with's hands in;
He's astern – so go alight, crew, and win!
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| First news of the battle of Lexington by William Ranney (1847) |
The Scar Of Lexington
Hannah Flagg Gould, 1836
Her father, Benjamin Gould, led Union soldiers
in the battle of Lexington.
With cherub smile, the prattling boy,
Who on the veteran's breast reclines,
Has thrown aside his favorite toy,
And round his tender finger twines
Those scattered locks, that with the flight
Of four-score years are snowy white;
And, as a scar arrests his view,
He cries, 'Grand-Pa', what wounded you?'
'My child, 'tis five and fifty years
This very day, this very hour,
Since from a scene of blood and tears,
Where valor fell by hostile power,
I saw retire the setting sun
Behind the hills of Lexington;
While pale and lifeless on the plain
My brothers lay, for freedom slain!
'And ere that fight, the first that spoke
In thunder to our land, was o'er,
Amid the clouds of fire and smoke
I felt my garments wet with gore!
'Tis since that dread and wild affray,
That trying, dark, eventful day
From this calm April eve so far,
I wear upon my cheek the scar.
'When thou to manhood shalt be grown,
And I am gone in dust to sleep,
May freedom's rights be still thine own,
And them and thine in quiet reap
The unblighted product of the toil
In which my blood bedewed the soil!
And, while those fruits thou shalt enjoy,
Bethink thee of this scar, my boy!
'But, should thy country's voice be heard
To bid her children fly to arms,
Gird on thy Grandsire's trusty sword;
And, undismayed by war's alarms,
Remember, on the battle-field,
I made the hand of God my shield!
And, be thou spared, like me, to tell
What bore thee up, while others fell!'
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| Surrender at Yorktown, October 19, 1781 |
Yorktown
John Greenleaf Whittier
From Yorktown's ruins, ranked and still,
Two lines stretch far o'er vale and hill:
Who curbs his steed at head of one?
Hark! the low murmur: Washington!
Who bends his keen, approving glance,
Where down the gorgeous line of France
Shine knightly star and plume of snow?
Thou too art victor, Rochambeau!
The earth which bears this calm array
Shook with the war-charge yesterday,
Ploughed deep with hurrying hoof and wheel,
Shot-sown and bladed thick with steel;
October's clear and noonday sun
Paled in the breath-smoke of the gun,
And down night's double blackness fell,
Like a dropped star, the blazing shell.
Now all is hushed: the gleaming lines
Stand moveless as the neighboring pines;
While through them, sullen, grim, and slow,
The conquered hosts of England go:
O'Hara's brow belies his dress,
Gay Tarleton's troop rides bannerless:
Shout, from thy fired and wasted homes,
Thy scourge, Virginia, captive comes!
Nor thou alone: with one glad voice
Let all thy sister States rejoice;
Let Freedom, in whatever clime
She waits with sleepless eye her time,
Shouting from cave and mountain wood
Make glad her desert solitude,
While they who hunt her quail with fear;
The New World's chain lies broken here!
John Greenleaf Whittier
From Yorktown's ruins, ranked and still,
Two lines stretch far o'er vale and hill:
Who curbs his steed at head of one?
Hark! the low murmur: Washington!
Who bends his keen, approving glance,
Where down the gorgeous line of France
Shine knightly star and plume of snow?
Thou too art victor, Rochambeau!
The earth which bears this calm array
Shook with the war-charge yesterday,
Ploughed deep with hurrying hoof and wheel,
Shot-sown and bladed thick with steel;
October's clear and noonday sun
Paled in the breath-smoke of the gun,
And down night's double blackness fell,
Like a dropped star, the blazing shell.
Now all is hushed: the gleaming lines
Stand moveless as the neighboring pines;
While through them, sullen, grim, and slow,
The conquered hosts of England go:
O'Hara's brow belies his dress,
Gay Tarleton's troop rides bannerless:
Shout, from thy fired and wasted homes,
Thy scourge, Virginia, captive comes!
Nor thou alone: with one glad voice
Let all thy sister States rejoice;
Let Freedom, in whatever clime
She waits with sleepless eye her time,
Shouting from cave and mountain wood
Make glad her desert solitude,
While they who hunt her quail with fear;
The New World's chain lies broken here!
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| The Victory Ball, by Jean-Léon Gérôme Ferris (1929) |
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| Read Pattern for Romance 1769 Colonial Boston |
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