Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five (million B.C.);
Hardly a dino is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend, "If the Red Coats march
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Three if they come riding the T
Four if by bridge, and five by taxi,
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."
From his vantage point up high,
The muster of Red Coats at the barrack door,
He heard them chomp, he heard them roar
Pterodactyl flew to the Old North Church,
Landed upon his steepled perch,
Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
But mostly he watched with eager search
And lo! From the tower of the Old North Church,
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
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 an era was riding that night;
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The dinos will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
You know the rest. In the books you have read...
And the Red Coats were never heard of again,












This is epic!
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