Calling on God to aid the patriot’s cause,
At morn, and in the solemn hour of night,
His mandate, pregnant with a Nation’s fate,
Went forth from these plain, unpretending walls.
Here towered, in war-like garb, his stately form,
While marshaled thousands in the dusty street,
Gave ear to his harangue, and inly vowed
To die or conquer with their matchless chief.
Methinks at yon old window I behold
His calm, majestic features—while the sound