Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE BALLAD OF DANIEL BRAY, by JOSEPH FULFORD FOLSOM


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE BALLAD OF DANIEL BRAY, by                    
First Line: The delaware, with stately sweep
Last Line: "he brought the boats to washington."
Subject(s): American Revolution; Delaware (river); Trenton, Battle Of (1776)


The Delaware, with stately sweep,
Flows seaward as when armies fought;
But they who struck for freedom sleep
Beneath the soil their valor bought.
At Rosemont, inland, Daniel Bray,
In lonely grave, with rest hard won,
Waits for his country's voice to say:
"He brought the boats to Washington."

At Trenton lay the Hessian host,
Pluming their pride with gay parade;
They thought the freeman's cause was lost,
And hoped his last brave stand was made;
But safe on Pennsylvania's shore,
The Master Patriot aimed the blow
Which ever in the nation's lore
Would mark oppression's overthrow.

To Captain Bray on Kingwood height
A horseman sped by field and brake,
Till on his door, at dead of night,
He knocked, and bade the soldier wake,
A hasty mount, a quick farewell,
And then miles down the forzen track,
Like musket shots the hoof-beats fell,
While Mary slept and dreamed him back.

Down Stony Batter Hill they sped,
Across Duck's Flat; then up the slopes
To Rittenhouse (where slept the dead)
Their coursers climbed with steadier lopes;
The ten-mile creek is left behind,
Gilboa's slant is swiftly run;
At Coryell's the inn they find,
And waiting them, great Washington.

That hour Bray heard his general say:
"Seize all the boats from Easton down,
And guard them safe, by night and day,
Until we cross to take the town."
The echoes of a noble voice
Rode with him from that meeting place --
Blunt praise that made his soul rejoice,
And spurred his zeal to quicker pace.

Ere gray dawn paled o'er Hunterdon,
A circuit ranged he twelve miles wide,
For brave Gearheart of Flemington,
And Johnes of Amwell countryside.
They foiled the Tory's cunningness,
Disguised in hunter's garb uncouth,
They pierced the Jersey wilderness,
From Ringoes to the Lehigh's mouth.

Then downward on the Delaware,
By night they drove their project bold,
Naught but the planet's wintry stare
To cheer them in the bitter cold.
December's slashing wind cut keen
O'er ice-cakes massed with frosty grip;
And longside, in the dusky sheen,
They watched the chill black waters slip.

Beneath the river's gloomy banks,
And where the friendly ferry plied,
The craft were seized with scanty thanks,
And launched upon the swirling tide:
Through eddies deep, and rapids swift,
They guided sure their precious fleet;
Minding the rock and treacherous rift,
And creeks where angry currents meet.

No hostile shot disturbed the verge,
Where ghostly woods loomed drear and dark
No voice, except the hound's sad dirge,
Or, far away, the wolf's gruff bark;
But sometimes 'cross the distant slope,
A farmhouse shed its candle ray,
And warmed the wand'rer's heart with hope
Of fireside joys and freedom's day.

The river's speech is low and weird,
It bears no tales of deeds long past;
But Bray, ere morning light appeared,
His boats by Malta Isle made fast;
And on that famous Christmas night,
They bore the heroes o'er the tide,
Who broke the spell of Britain's might,
And flung the Hessian mob aside.

The Delaware shall ever flow
Through sacred soil, forever free,
And every home-born child shall know
The tale of Trenton's victory:
And till the stars shall cease to shed
Their light o'er hilly Hunterdon,
Of Daniel Bray it shall be said:
"He brought the boats to Washington."





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