She plucked the petals and blew them out,
A rain of red they fluttered about
Over the floor and through the air,—
Rushed the officers here and there,
When hark! A cry! The door burst in!
"The enemy!"
Tumult, terror and din!
A rain of red they fluttered about
Over the floor and through the air,—
Rushed the officers here and there,
When hark! A cry! The door burst in!
"The enemy!"
Tumult, terror and din!
Flew a hand onto every side,—
Swords?—Penelope, arms thrown wide,
Leaped that heap of steel before,
The swords behind her upon the floor,
And faced her countrymen staunch and bold,
Who dared a river of death and cold,
Who swept them down on a rollicking horde
And found they never a man with sword!
Swords?—Penelope, arms thrown wide,
Leaped that heap of steel before,
The swords behind her upon the floor,
And faced her countrymen staunch and bold,
Who dared a river of death and cold,
Who swept them down on a rollicking horde
And found they never a man with sword!
And so it happened,—but not by chance
That in '76 was given a dance,
By a witch with a rose and a satin gown,
Painted in Philadelphia town,
Mistress Penelope Penwick, she
Called by her father "My Sweet P."
That in '76 was given a dance,
By a witch with a rose and a satin gown,
Painted in Philadelphia town,
Mistress Penelope Penwick, she
Called by her father "My Sweet P."
72
