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Listen, my children, and you shall hear

What really happened to Paul Revere

On the eighteenth of April, seventy five;

There are several of us who are quite alive

And know what occurred in that fateful year.

Riding from Boston, without a pause,

Were Paul Revere and William Dawes.

Bill went by land but Paul crossed the river,

Two lights in the church having set them a-quiver,

To Lexington they’d carry the cause.

Longfellow should have had them shout,

“The Regulars are coming out”

‘Cos many folk still served the king

But “The British are coming” had a better ring.

(And rhyming’s what it’s all about!)

With Hancock and Adams they shared a dram

And were joined on their ride by “Doctor Sam.”

Yet, at Lincoln, Revere was captured by force

And Dawes escaped—but fell off his horse—

So Prescott warned the Concord gang.

Now Henry pictures, eighty years late,

Revere in the jail, debating his fate,

And failing to rhyme the name of the hero

(A problem like fighting fires with Nero)

He found a solution, I’m sad to relate.

Thus into our history rode Sam Prescott’s mate!

R. June Thornton

April 2009

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