But wilder, fiercer, sadder still, Freezing the tear it caused to start, Was the inevitable chill Which pierced a nation's agued heart,-- A nation with its naked breast Against the frozen barriers prest, Heaving its tedious way and slow Through shifting gulfs and drifts of woe, Where every blast that whistled by Was bitter with its children's cry. Such was the winter's awful sight For many a dreary day and night, What time our country's hope forlorn, Of every needed comfort shorn, Lay housed within a hurried tent, Where every keen blast found a rent, And oft the snow was seen to sift Along the floor its piling drift, Or, mocking the scant blankets' fold, Across the night-couch frequent rolled; Where every path by a soldier beat, Or every track where a sentinel stood, Still held the print of naked feet, And oft the crimson stains of blood; Where Famine held her spectral court, And joined by all her fierce allies: She ever loved a camp or fort Beleaguered by the wintry skies,-- But chiefly when Disease is by, To sink the frame and dim the eye, Until, with seeking forehead bent, In martial garments cold and damp, Pale Death patrols from tent to tent, To count the charnels of the camp. Such was the winter that prevailed Within the crowded, frozen gorge; Such were the horrors that assailed The patriot band at Valley Forge. It was a midnight storm of woes To clear the sky for Freedom's morn; And such must ever be the throes The hour when Liberty is born. THOMAS BUCHANAN READ. Howe's army, meanwhile, spent the winter in Philadelphia; very pleasantly, for the most part, and yet not without various alarms, one of which was celebrated by Francis Hopkinson in some famous verses to the tune of "Yankee Doodle," published in the _Pennsylvania Packet_, March 4, 1778. BRITISH VALOR DISPLAYED; OR, THE BATTLE OF THE KEGS [January 5, 1778] Gallants attend, and hear a friend Trill forth harmonious ditty; Strange things I'll tell which late befel In Philadelphia city. 'Twas early day, as Poets say, Just when the sun was rising, A soldier stood on a log of wood, And saw a sight surprising. As in a maze he stood to gaze (The truth can't be deny'd, Sir), He spy'd a score of kegs, or more, Come floating down the tide, Sir. A sailor, too, in jerkin blue, This strange appearance viewing, First damn'd his eyes, in great surprise, Then said "Some mischief's brewing: "These kegs now hold, the rebels bold, Packed up like pickl'd herring; And they're come down t' attack the town In this new way of ferry'ng." The soldier flew, the sailor too, And, scar'd almost to death, Sir, Wore out their shoes to spread the news, And ran 'til out of breath, Sir.