Now afar beyond the valley,
In a world of toil and pleasure,
In a world of joy and sorrow,
Last of all he told more slowly
All the story of the graveyard,
Many people proudly boasting,
Say, ''The blood of Molly Barber
And her spouse, the Honest Chaugham,
From the Narragansett nation,
And the Spanish Senorita
Daily courses through my being."
Hallowed are the Light House cabins,
Once on Ragged Mountain,
In the lonely Peoples' Forest
By the river in Barkhamsted.
Hallowed is the lonely grave yard
With its palisade and headstones,
Though they're crude and nameless markers,
And the name of Molly Barber,
With her spouse, the Honest Chaugham,
Known afar in song and story.
Generations yet unborn,
Oft shall listen to the story
Of the famous Light House village,
Home of ageless Molly Barber,
By the Tunxis in Barkhamsted.
Oft they'll meet the Light House children,
As they journey through the ages,
To the final Armageddon
When the age of man is ended
And the clock of time is broken.
46. FAMOUS THEN THE BASKET-MAKER.
Sol Webster and his aged wife
Oft retold the famous story,
Recounting scenes of Light House life
On the side of Ragged Mountain.
Through the slowly rolling seasons
Lived Sol Webster and his partner,
Aged Mary Niles of Riverton,
Ever busy making baskets,
Baskets in the Robert's homestead,
Nestled on the slope of Hart's Hill,
Near the Tunxis, south of Riverton,
Westward o'er the shining river
From the storied Light House village.
Many people came to see them,
Many people asking questions,
Questions of the Light House Village—
"Who was Chaugham? Who was Molly?"