What though the generous cow gives me to quaff A belly soft the pulpy apple hides; The yellow bread whose face like amber glows, ST. GEORGE TUCKER (Born at Bermuda, June 29, 1752; died in Nelson County, Virginia, November, 1827] DAYS OF MY YOUTH Days of my youth, Ye have glided away; Hairs of my youth, Ye are frosted and gray; Eyes of my youth, Your keen sight is no more; Cheeks of my youth, Ye are furrowed all o'er; Strength of my youth, All your vigor is gone; Your gay visions are flown. Days of my youth, I wish not your recall; I'm content ye should fall; Eyes of my youth, You much evil have seen; Cheeks of my youth, Bathed in tears have you been; Thoughts of my youth, You have led me astray; Strength of my youth, Why lament your decay? Days of my age, Ye will shortly be past; Pains of my age, Yet awhile ye can last; Joys of my age, In true wisdom delight; Eyes of my age, Be religion your light; Dread ye not the cold sod; Be ye fixed on your God. OCCASIONAL POEMS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD THE BATTLE OF THE KEGS This ballad was occasioned by a real incident. Certain machines, in the form of kegs, charged with gunpowder, were sent down the river to annoy the British shipping then at Philadelphia. The danger of these machines being discovered, the British manned the wharfs and shipping, and discharged their small arms and cannons at everything they saw floating in the river during the ebb-tide. Author's Note. Gallants attend and hear a friend Trill forth harmonious ditty, Strange things I'll tell which late befell 'T was early day, as poets say, As in amaze he stood to gaze, The truth can't be denied, sir, A sailor too in jerkin blue, This strange appearance viewing, First damned his eyes, in great surprise, Then said, "Some mischief 's brewing. "These kegs, I'm told, the rebels hold, The soldier flew, the sailor too, And scared almost to death, sir, Wore out their shoes, to spread the news, Now up and down throughout the town, Some fire cried, which some denied, Sir William he, snug as a flea, Lay all this time a-snoring, Nor dreamed of harm as he lay warm, Now in a fright, he starts upright, He rubs both eyes, and boldly cries, "For God's sake, what's the matter?" At his bedside he then espied, Sir Erskine at command, sir, Upon one foot he had one boot, And th' other in his hand, sir. "Arise, arise," Sir Erskine cries, "The rebels—more's the pity, Without a boat are all afloat, And ranged before the city. "The motley crew, in vessels new, "Therefore prepare for bloody war, The royal band now ready stand The cannons roar from shore to shore, The rebel dales, the rebel vales, The fish below swam to and fro, Attacked from every quarter; Why sure, thought they, the devil's to pay, 'Mongst folks above the water. The kegs, 't is said, though strongly made, The conquering British troops, sir |