Gaspee Virtual
Archives |
| "THE
BURNING OF THE GASPEE" Anonymous August 3, 1800.
Refound in Warwick Historical
Society
Newsletter,
April 1978, VII (4), p4.
|
| Seventeen hundred
seventy-two, Summer was smiling the whole land through; New-mown meadows scented the air: But the hearts of men were full of care. Trouble was rife; for a tyrant's hand Heavily lay on our own fair land. Up and down the Rhode Island shore Sailed the Gaspee, schooner of war. Might makes right when foes are few: Braggart was captain, and braggarts the crew. Colonists had no laws that they, Officers of the king, should obey. Sailing now here and sailing there, Carrying trouble everywhere; At length one day, in a hurried chase, After a schooner flying apace, Fast on the bar the Gaspee lay, Fast, till the tide should come up the bay. |
Midnight darkness
had settled down: Out from the wharves of the silent town Boats moved swiftly with muffled oars; Quickly behind them sunk the shore, Till by the Gaspee's sullen side They float on the waves of the coming tide. Up on the deck with a sudden leap; Seeming like foemen sprung from the deep! The ship is theirs ere the crew half know, Tumbling on deck from their hammocks below, Lower your boats, and make away; Never again shall you sail our bay. As they pulled homeward, a lurid flame Lights them back o'er the way they came. Up the tall masts the fire runs free, Turning to blood the unquiet sea; Till with a crash like a thunder-tone, Night falls again, and the Gaspee is gone. |
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