THE OLD STATE HOUSE.
By Sidney Maxwell.
The Old State House! Within these antique walls
The early fathers of the hamlet met
And gravely argued of the town's affairs.
Another generation came; and in
This hall the Tory Council sat in state
While from the burning lips of Otis, or
The stem, defiant tongue of Adams sprang
That eloquence whose echoes thundered back
From Concord, Lexington, and Bunker's Hill!
Between those years and ours a century lies;
Those patriot's graves are deep with moss and mould,
And yet these walls—the same whose shadows fell
Athwart the crimson snow where Preston charged[3]—
Still cast their shadows; not on troops, nor mob
Exasperated by their wrongs, but on
A jostling, hurrying throng—freeman each one,
Unless in bondage to himself. O Man:
Pass not all heedless by, nor imprecate
This aged relic of the past because
It lies across thy path! From avarice
Redeemed; restored unto its former self,—
We hail thee, noble Sentry of the years,
And greet thee with a thousand loving cheers!
3 ([return])
The "Boston Massacre," March 5th, 1770.