Some there are who fought with honor Through the heat and sweat of summer And the wind and cold of winter In the Civil War for freedom Of the toiling colored people. Others later 'gainst the Axis, Fought beyond the nation's borders, World War First and World War Second; Suffered in the deadly battles, On the sandy dunes of Tunis, On the plains of Central Europe, On Pacific's sultry islands; Gave their lives for peace and order And the things they thought were holy, Even as their mother, Molly, Sacrificed her life for honor, In a Ragged Mountain cabin. Coming from the hill-side cabin, On the side of Ragged Mountain, In the town of fair Barkhamsted, By the rolling Tunxis River Generations speeding onward In an ever widening circle, Carry far the blood of Chaugham And his spouse, brave Molly Barber, Down the years with Adams, Hobson, Jacklin, Lawrence, Barber, Elwell, Webster, Doty, Berry, Cockran, And the thousands yet to follow. Through the ages still they journey, Ever more and more descendants, From that Ragged Mountain cabin, Home of fearless Molly Barber And her spouse, the Honest Chaugham. Onward now, and ever onward Shall they go, all through the ages To Eternity's last borders-- Sent by Peter Barber's anger And his daughter's resolution. Had she yielded to her father Other souls would journey onward, Who is there to judge between them? 44. GONE THE CABINS FROM THE HILL-SIDE. The tiger lilies blooming there Sing of ancient habitation, And lilacs' fragrance on the air Breathes a song of early settlers. Gone the cabins from the hill-side, Friendly lights no longer twinkle Through the skins of fox and beaver. "On the side of Ragged Mountain, In some crevice of the ledges, In some shady, sandy hollow, Is an old sea captain's treasure." This a legend loudly whispers, While the people tell the story-- Story of an old sea captain, Spanish friend of Chaugham's father, From the confines of Block Island. Oft he came to visit Chaugham, Loaded down with golden treasure, Often staid a week and longer, Talked of treasure ships and righting, Ship to ship upon the billows. Oft he came to visit Chaugham, Loaded down with treasure, But departed empty handed. Through the years the treasure hunters Search the side of Ragged Mountain, Near the site of Chaugham's cabin, For the old sea captain's money. All the hill-side and the graveyard Have been spaded and examined, Searching for this fabled fortune, In a pot of gold reported, Buried on the lonely mountain. Through the years the treasure hunters Search the side of Ragged Mountain, Searching, searching, never finding-- Still they're searching for the treasure, Buried on the mountain-side. O'er this wild romantic hill-side Wildly blow the winds of winter, Softly sigh the summer zephyrs; Sad and lonely seems the forest, Watching o'er the empty cellars. On a boulder by the roadside, Is a worn inscription telling Briefly of the ancient village.