Samuel Kettell, ed. Specimens of American Poetry. 1829.
By The Fathers ChoiceSarah J. Hale (17881879)
N
Urge, urge thy lagging steed!
The savage yell is fierce behind,
And life is on thy speed.
The group he wildly eyed,
When “father!” burst from every voice,
And “child!” his heart replied.
And one he meant for fame,
And one that wears her mother’s smile,
And one that bears her name.
Or slumber on his breast;
And one whose joys of infancy,
Are still by smiles express’d.
He ’ll shield them from the foe:
But oh! his ear must thrill to hear
Their shriekings, should he go.
No words his thoughts allow;
There ’s burning tears upon his cheek,
Death’s marble on his brow.
Then bade his children fly!
And turn’d, and even that savage band
Cower’d at his wrathful eye.
Flash’d forth the quivering flame!
Their fiercest warrior bows beneath
The father’s deadly aim.
His heart or purpose move;
He saves his children, or he dies
The sacrifice of love.
Hate points the murderer’s brand—
But love and duty, these alone
Can nerve the good man’s hand.
The coward murderer flee;
He cannot fear, he will not yield,
That strikes, sweet love, for thee.
Save the soft childlike wail,
“O father, save!” “My children, fly!”
Were mingled on the gale.
And sterner flash’d his eye,
As fast he hurls the leaden death,
Still shouting, “children fly!”
Nor tremor shook his frame,
Save when at intervals he heard
Some trembler lisp his name.
Like famish’d tigers chafe,
The sheltering roof is near’d, is gain’d,
All, all the dear ones safe!