“Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of a lovely feminine Paul Revere
Who rode an equally famous ride
Through a different part of the countryside,
Where Sybil Ludington's name recalls
A ride as daring as that of Paul's.
The Colonel, muttered, ‘And who, my friend,
Is the messenger I can send?
Your strength is spent, and you cannot ride;
And, then, you know not the countryside.
I cannot go, for my duty's clear.
When my men come in, they must find me here.
There's devil a man on the place tonight
To warn my troopers to come and fight.
Then, who is my messenger to be?’
Said Sybil Ludington, ‘You have me.’
‘You?’ said the Colonel, and grimly smiled.
‘You, my daughter, you're just a child.’
‘Child!’ cried Sybil, ‘Why I'm sixteen.
My mind is alert, and my senses keen.
I know where the trails and roadways are
And I can gallop as fast and far
As any masculine rider can.
You want a messenger? I'm your man.’” sup>*
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