The road was deserted, for when men fought A secret path the traveler sought; Two scared idlers in Levering's Inn Fled to the woods at the coming din, The watch dog ran to bark his delight, But pursued and pursuers were out of sight.
Surely the distance between them increased, And the shouts of the troopers had long since ceased, One after another pulled his rein And rode with great oaths to the camp again. Oft a look backward Tacey sent To the fading red of the regiment.
She heard the foremost horseman call; She saw the horse stumble, the rider fall; She patted her steed and checked his pace And leisurely rode the rest of the race. When the Seven-Stars' sign on the horizon showed Behind not a trooper was on the road.
In vain had they shouted who followed in chase, In vain their wild ride; so ended the race. Though fifty strong voices may clamor and call, If she hear not the strongest, she hears not them all; Though fifty fleet horses go galloping fast, One swifter than all shall be furthest at last.
Said the well-pleased Captain when he came home: "The steed shall be thine and a new silver comb. 'Twas a daring deed and bravely done." As proud of the praise as the promise won, The maiden stole from the house to feed With a generous hand her gallant steed.
Unavailing the storms of the century beat With the roar of thunder, or winter's sleet, The mansion still stands, and is heard as of yore The wind in the trees on the island's shore; But the restless river its shore line wears And no longer the island its old name bears.
And years that are gone in obscurity Have enveloped the rider's memory, But in Providence still abide her race, Brave youths with her spirit, fair maids with her grace, Undaunted they stand when fainter hearts flee, Prepared whatsoever the emergency.
Isaac R. Pennypacker.