28
SONG OF HUBBARDTON RAID
A student of great composure,
Always self-possessed and firm,
Took the head under his cloak,
Under his elegant cloak of beaver,
Walked through the crowd unsuspected,
Through this crowd of rustic soldiers,
Through this crowd of Hubbardtonians,
And hid away his prize in a hay loft,
In this modern Green Mountain Athens,
In the land of slates and quarries.
The doors were opened, the search began,
The horrors of the dissecting room appeared,
Skeletons hung up around the walls,
Hung up with hempen strings,
Partly dissected bodies met their eyes everywhere,
Staring faces without any eyes,
Limbs half dissected, on the floor,
In the chairs and on the tables,
