هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر هنري وادزورث لونجفيلو، وهي قصيدة مباشرة وملهمة تصف الرحلة الشجاعة لبول ريفير.
ما هي قصيدة Paul Revere’s Ride
Listen, my children, and you shall hear
,Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere
;On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five
Hardly a man is now alive
.Who remembers that famous day and year
He said to his friend, “If the British march
,By land or sea from the town to-night
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
—,Of the North Church tower as a signal light
;One, if by land, and two, if by sea
,And I on the opposite shore will be
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
,Through every Middlesex village and farm
”.For the country folk to be up and to arm
Then he said, “Good night!” and with muffled oar
,Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore
,Just as the moon rose over the bay
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
;The Somerset, British man-of-war
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
,Across the moon like a prison bar
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
.By its own reflection in the tide
,Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street
,Wanders and watches with eager ears
Till in the silence around him he hears
,The muster of men at the barrack door
,The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet
,And the measured tread of the grenadiers
.Marching down to their boats on the shore
,Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church
,By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread
,To the belfry-chamber overhead
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
—,Masses and moving shapes of shade
,By the trembling ladder, steep and tall
,To the highest window in the wall
Where he paused to listen and look down
,A moment on the roofs of the town
.And the moonlight flowing over all
,Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead
,In their night-encampment on the hill
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
,That he could hear, like a sentinel’s tread
The watchful night-wind, as it went
,Creeping along from tent to tent
”!And seeming to whisper, “All is well
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
;Of the lonely belfry and the dead
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
,On a shadowy something far away
—,Where the river widens to meet the bay
A line of black that bends and floats
.On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats
,Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
.On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere
,Now he patted his horse’s side
,Now gazed at the landscape far and near
,Then, impetuous, stamped the earth
;And turned and tightened his saddle girth
But mostly he watched with eager search
,The belfry-tower of the Old North Church
,As it rose above the graves on the hill
.Lonely and spectral and sombre and still
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry’s height
!A glimmer, and then a gleam of light
,He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
!A second lamp in the belfry burns
,A hurry of hoofs in a village street
,A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
: Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet
, That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light
;The fate of a nation was riding that night
,And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight
.Kindled the land into flame with its heat
,He has left the village and mounted the steep
,And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep
;Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides
,And under the alders, that skirt its edge
,Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge
.Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides
,It was twelve by the village clock
.When he crossed the bridge into Medford town
,He heard the crowing of the cock
,And the barking of the farmer’s dog
,And felt the damp of the river fog
.That rises after the sun goes down
,It was one by the village clock
.When he galloped into Lexington
He saw the gilded weathercock
,Swim in the moonlight as he passed
,And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare
,Gaze at him with a spectral glare
As if they already stood aghast
.At the bloody work they would look upon
,It was two by the village clock
.When he came to the bridge in Concord town
,He heard the bleating of the flock
,And the twitter of birds among the trees
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
.Blowing over the meadows brown
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
,Who at the bridge would be first to fall
,Who that day would be lying dead
.Pierced by a British musket-ball
,You know the rest. In the books you have read
—,How the British Regulars fired and fled
,How the farmers gave them ball for ball
,From behind each fence and farm-yard wall
,Chasing the red-coats down the lane
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
,Under the trees at the turn of the road
.And only pausing to fire and load
;So through the night rode Paul Revere
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
—,To every Middlesex village and farm
,A cry of defiance and not of fear
,A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door
!And a word that shall echo forevermore
,For, borne on the night-wind of the Past
,Through all our history, to the last
,In the hour of darkness and peril and need
The people will waken and listen to hear
,The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed
.And the midnight message of Paul Revere
ملخص قصيدة Paul Revere’s Ride
كانت الرحلة الشهيرة لبول ريفير في 18 أبريل 1775 موضوع قصيدة لونجفيلو الشهيرة هذه، يقال من وجهة نظر المالك الذي يأمل في الترفيه وإبلاغ أطفاله، تم نشر القصيدة في مجلة أتلانتيك الشهرية عام 1861 في بداية الحرب الأهلية، كتب الشاعر هذه القطعة بقصد إلهام الشماليين، أحد العناصر الأقل نقاشًا في هذه القصيدة هو وظيفتها باعتبارها بيانًا مناهضًا للعبودية، توجد إشارات عديدة في هذه القصيدة، مثل مقبرة العبيد واستخدام اسم سومرست في بداية القصيدة، هذا الأخير مرتبط بقضية تاريخية حظرت الرق في بريطانيا عام 1772.
تأخذ القصيدة القارئ بالكامل تقريبًا ترتيبًا زمنيًا من البداية إلى النهاية رحلة منتصف الليل لبول ريفير، الشاعر يعطي وقتاً كافياً لتطوير الدراما في كل لحظة مر بها الريفير لضمان انتصار فريقهم، يأتي الجزء الأكثر دراماتيكية والأكثر أهمية من الخطة بينما يتنقل ريفير بسرعة عبر الريف من قرية إلى قرية لتحذيره من أنّ البريطانيين قادمون بالفعل عن طريق البحر، في نهاية القصيدة يلمح الشاعر إلى الأهمية التاريخية لهذه اللحظة وكيف، تمامًا مثل حصان ريفير سوف تتخلل حقائق هذا المساء التاريخ لسنوات قادمة.
