Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE BOMBARDMENT OF BRISTOL, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE BOMBARDMENT OF BRISTOL, by                    
First Line: In seventeen hundred and seventy-five
Last Line: And all their firing and their racket / shot off the topmast of a packet
Subject(s): "american Revolution;bristol, Rhode Island;


IN seventeen hundred and seventy-five,
Our Bristol town was much surprised
By a pack of thievish villains,
That will not work to earn their livings.

October 't was the seventh day,
As I have heard the people say,
Wallace, his name be ever curst,
Came on our harbor just at dusk.

And there his ship did safely moor,
And quickly sent his barge on shore,
With orders that should not be broke,
Or they might expect a smoke.

Demanding that the magistrates
Should quickly come on board his ship,
And let him have some sheep and cattle,
Or they might expect a battle.

At eight o'clock, by signal given,
Our peaceful atmosphere was riven
By British balls, both grape and round,
As plenty afterwards were found.

But oh! to hear the doleful cries
Of people running for their lives!
Women, with children in their arms,
Running away to the farms!

With all their firing and their skill
They did not any person kill;
Neither was any person hurt
But the Reverend Parson Burt.

And he was not killed by a ball,
As judged by jurors one and all;
But being in a sickly state,
He, frightened, fell, which proved his fate.

Another truth to you I'll tell,
That you may see they levelled well;
For aiming for to kill the people,
They fired their shot into a steeple.

They fired low, they fired high,
The women scream, the children cry;
And all their firing and their racket
Shot off the topmast of a packet.





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