  ’Twas Christmas eve, the enemy his vigilance for once relaxed; Well might such gusts of angry sleet the keenest zeal have overtaxed. The ice thronged Delaware ran bleak, but friendly, to the distant bay, While to and fro upon his beat the sentry took his patient way. A gallant force full often tried was swiftly plying mattock, spade, While those who first should stem the tide, moved calmly forth as on parade. They met in silence, halted, marched, the merest motion a command, A raging river rolled before; the “Lion” hungered near at hand. The watchfires gleaming through the mist seemed saying:—Courage! men, good cheer. None may suppose while bright we burn, that not a soldier lingers near. The hero faced a bank of gloom, it spoke security, success. He saw the country free and felt a glow of holy happiness. Within the measure of a breath he saw the revolution o’er, He saw Mount Vernon smile in peace above the blue Potomac’s shore. But happy times were yet to come, a grim invader walked the land, Oh that he might by one dread blow bid yonder Hessian horde disband. The frost lay white upon his brow, the blizzard raved, he heeded not, No hand but God’s should stand between his army and the goal it sought. And so he crossed the Delaware, a lesser man had quailed to view, He crossed it, for full well he knew how brave his men although how few. The boat was faithful to its trust, it bore him slowly, surely, o’er; And scorned to heed the groaning mass that pressed upon it more and more. So victor crowned, at early morn, through Trenton’s smoke hung streets he passed, Like one, who after weary days, has caught a glimpse of home at last. He passed in triumph, passed to find, though other battles loomed before, That monarchy, could not again, in this free land her loss restore. |
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