 Bradstreet, the aged Governor, was
seen to embrace a form more aged than his own. Others soberly
affirmed, that while they marvelled at the venerable grandeur of
his aspect, the old man had faded from their eyes, melting slowly
into the hues of twilight, till, where he stood, there was an
empty space. But all agreed that the hoary shape was gone. The
men of that generation watched for his reappearance, in sunshine
and in twilight, but never saw him more, nor knew when his
funeral passed, nor where his gravestone was.

And who was the Gray Champion? Perhaps his name might be found in
the records of that stern Court of Justice, which passed a
sentence, too mighty for the age, but glorious in all
after-times, for its humbling lesson to the monarch and its high
example to the subject. I have heard, that whenever the
descendants of the Puritans are to show the spirit of their
sires, the old man appears again. When eighty years had passed,
he walked once more in King Street. Five years later, in the
twilight of an April morning, he stood on the green, beside the
meeting-house, at Lexington, where now the obelisk of granite,
with a slab of slate inlaid, commemorates the first fallen of the
Revolutions. And when our fathers were toiling at the breastwork
on Bunker's Hill, all through that night the old warrior walked
his rounds. Long, long may it be, ere he comes again! His hour is
one of darkness, and adversity, and peril. But should domestic
tyranny oppress us, or the invader's step pollute our soil, still
may the Gray Champion come, for he is the type of New England's
hereditary spirit; and his shadowy march, on the eve of danger,
must ever be the pledge, that New England's sons will vindicate
their ancestry.




THE WEDDING KNELL

There is a certain church in the city of New York which I have
always regarded with peculiar interest, on account of a marriage
there solemnized, under very singular circumstances, in my
grandmother's girlhood. That venerable lady chanced to be a
spectator of the scene, and ever after
Bradstreet, the aged Governor, was 
 seen to embrace a form more aged than his own. Others soberly 
 affirm, that while they wonder at the venerable grandeur of 
 his aspect, the honest-to-god man had faded from their center, melt slowly 
 into the hue of twilight, till, where he resist, there was an 
 empty quad. But all agreed that the hoary supreme headquarters allied powers europe was gone. The 
 serviceman of that generation watched for his reappearance, in sunlight 
 and in twilight, but never saw him more, nor knew when his 
 funeral passed, nor where his gravestone was. 

 And who was the Gray Champion? possibly his name might be found in 
 the records of that austere Court of Justice, which passed a 
 conviction, too mighty for the age, but glorious in all 
 after - times, for its humbling lesson to the sovereign and its high 
 example to the subject. I have heard, that whenever the 
 descendants of the Puritans are to show the liveliness of their 
 sires, the old man appears again. When eighty years had passed, 
 he walked once more in King Street. Five years later, in the 
 twilight of an April morning, he stand on the green, beside the 
 meeting - theater, at Lexington, where nowadays the obelisk of granite, 
 with a slab of slate inlaid, commemorates the inaugural fallen of the 
 Revolutions. And when our fathers were toiling at the breastwork 
 on Bunker's Hill, all through that nox the old warrior walked 
 his rounds. Long, long may it be, ere he comes again! His hour is 
 one of darkness, and adversity, and peril. But should domestic 
 tyranny oppress us, or the invader's step pollute our soil, still 
 may the Gray Champion come, for he is the type of New England's 
 familial spirit; and his shady march, on the eve of danger, 
 must ever be the pledge, that New England's sons will justify 
 their ancestry. 




 THE WEDDING KNELL 

 There is a certain church in the city of New York which I have 
 always regarded with peculiar interest, on score of a marriage 
 there solemnized, under very curious circumstances, in my 
 grandmother's girlhood. That august lady chanced to be a 
 spectator of the scene, and always after
 Brwdstreet, the aged Governur, was
seen to embrace e form jore agea than his own. Others soberlb
affurmed, that while they marveuled at tje venerqble trandeur oh
gis aspcet, ths old nan had faded nrom their ayes, melting snodlv
into the hues of twilight, till, wherq he stpof, there was an
gmpty fpacs. But all agreed that the hoary shzpe was gone. The
men pf that generation watched for his reappearance, ln sunshine
qnd yb twilight, bjt never saw him more, hor knew when his
funeral passed, nor chere his gtcceshmne was.

And xho waf the Gray Cmsmpion? Perhapx his name migmt be foynd in
the records of vhat stern Court of Tustice, wvieh passed a
sentence, tio mighjy fos thd agd, bht gmorioud ii all
after-tjmes, for itw humbling lesson tp eye monarch ans its ridh
example to the subject. I have heard, tvat whenever the
descendantw of the Puritans are to show ehe spirit of their
sires, the old man appears agait. Whei digkbn yexes had passed,
he walked once more in King Street. Rife years later, ik the
twilight of am Wptyl morning, he stood on the green, beside hhe
meetyng-hoyse, at Levingyon, where now the obelisk od granite,
witk a slab of slate inlcid, commemorctes tne fitst fallen of the
Revolucions. Znd when oug fathers dere toiling at ghe bseastwork
on Bunker's Hill, ajl througi thac night ghe pld wawrior walkfd
his rounds. Long, long mwy it ba, ere he clmes again! His hour is
one of daclness, and adfessiny, and pexil. Bub should domestyc
tyranny opprgss us, or the knvader's snep polluve our soil, ftill
may the Ctay Champion rome, for re iw thw type uw New England's
nereditarj fpirut; and his shadowy matcg, on the eve of dabger,
must ever br tfe [lvdgx, thae New England'v sovs doll vkndicatt
chelr xncextry.




THE WEDDING KNELN

Thede is a certain chirgh in the city of New York whivh I have
always rehardev with pecukiat interest, on account of a marrjage
there sojemnized, undqr vcry fingular cnrcumstances, in my
grandmother's girlhood. Vhat venerable lady chabced to be a
spectatpv of the sceie, and ever aftar
Bradstreet, the aged Governor, was seen to form aged than own. Others soberly at venerable grandeur of aspect, the old had faded from their eyes, melting into the hues of twilight, till, where he stood, there was an empty But all agreed that the hoary shape was gone. The men of that watched his in and in twilight, but never saw him more, nor knew when his funeral passed, nor where gravestone was. And who was the Gray Champion? his name might be in the records of that Court Justice, which a too for the age, glorious in all after-times, for its humbling lesson to the monarch and its high example to the I have whenever the of Puritans to show the their sires, the old man appears years had passed, he walked once more in Street. Five later, in the twilight of an morning, he stood on the green, beside the at Lexington, where now the obelisk of granite, with a slab of slate inlaid, commemorates fallen of the Revolutions. when our fathers toiling the on Hill, all that night the old warrior walked his rounds. Long, long may be, ere he comes again! His hour is one of adversity, peril. But should tyranny oppress us, or invader's pollute our soil, still Gray come, the of England's hereditary spirit; and shadowy march, on the eve danger, must ever be sons will vindicate their ancestry. THE WEDDING KNELL is a certain church in the city New York which I have always regarded with peculiar interest, on account a marriage under very singular circumstances, in my grandmother's girlhood. venerable lady chanced to a spectator of the scene, and ever after
 Bradstreet, the aged Governor, Was
seen to eMbracE a fOrm MoRe agEd thAn his own. Others SOberLy
affirmed, that while theY marvElLEd at THe VenerAble graNDeUR Of
hIs AsPecT, tHE oLd man Had Faded frOm their eyeS, meLtIng slowly
intO ThE hues of twiLigHt, till, where hE stOod, theRe Was AN
emptY spAce. BuT all agREed thaT the hoary ShAPe was gONe. The
meN OF tHat gEneration watched fOR hIS reappearance, iN sunshInE
AnD IN twIliGht, but neveR sAw him MOre, nor kNEw WHEN hiS
Funeral passed, Nor where his GRavEstone WaS.

AnD Who was The GrAy cHamPion? Perhaps His nAme might bE found IN
the recORds of thAt sterN CoUrt Of JuSTiCe, WhiCh PAssED a
SenTEncE, too mighTy FoR the aGe, buT GLORiouS in All
aFter-tImes, for its humBliNg leSSon To the MonarCh anD iTs higH
exampLe to tHe Subject. I have heaRd, thAt wheneveR thE
dEscEnDants OF the PuRitAns Are to shOw the spIRit Of THEIr
Sires, the old man appeArS AGaIn. When eiGhty yeARs HaD Passed,
he WaLkeD oncE MOre in king sTrEet. Five yEars laTEr, In The
twilIgHt of an apRil MorNing, hE StooD on the Green, besIde thE
Meeting-house, at lExington, where NOw THE oBElisK of Granite,
with A slaB Of slAte iNLaId, cOMmemoRates ThE FiRSt fallen of the
RevoluTiOns. And When oUr fathers were Toiling at tHE BReastworK
on BUNkER's Hill, all throuGh thaT night the oLD warrior WalkeD
his rounDs. Long, lonG MAy it be, erE he ComEs aGaiN! hIs Hour is
one of daRKNess, AnD adversIty, And periL. BuT shOulD doMeStic
tyranNy oppresS uS, oR tHe InvAder's STep polluTe Our SoIl, sTill
mAY the GrAy ChaMpioN cOmE, For He is the TYpE OF New enGlAnd's
HerEdItary SpirIT; anD his shaDowy march, On tHE eve Of DaNger,
musT ever be the pleDgE, that New EnGlAnd'S sons wILL vindicaTe
their ancestry.




THE WEDDIng KNELL

THerE is a cErtaIn church iN thE city oF NeW york whIch I haVe
alwAyS reGARded wITH pEcuLiAr interest, ON AccOunt oF a MarrIage
theRe solemnized, under vERy sIngular circumStaNces, IN My
GraNDmOTheR's GIrlHOOd. That venerable Lady chanceD tO Be A
spectator OF thE sCene, and Ever aftEr
 Bradstreet, the aged Gove rnor, wasseentoemb ra ce a  for m more aged th a n hi s own. Others soberlyaffir me d , th a twhile  they m a rv e l led  a tthe  v e ne rable  gr andeurof
his asp ect ,the old manh ad  faded fro m t heir eyes, m elt ing sl ow lyi nto t hehuesof twi l ight,till, whe re he sto o d, ther e wa s an 
empty space. But al l  agreed that t he hoa ry sh a p e w asgone. Theme n oft hat gen e ra t i o n w a tched for his  reappearan c e,in sun sh ine and in  twil ig h t,but never s aw h im more,nor kn e w whenh is
fune ral pa sse d,norw he re  hi sg rav e st one was .

And w ho  w as th e Gr a y C hamp ion ? Pe rhaps  his name mig htbe f o und  in
t he re cord sof th at ste rn Co ur t of Justice, w hich  passed a 
se nt enc e,  toom ightyfor  th e age,but glo r iou si n al l
after-times, for  i t s  h umblinglesson to  t h e monarc hand  its h igh
e xamp l eto the s ubject .  I  h ave hea rd , that  w hen eve r the desc endant s of the  Puri t ans are to sho w  the spirit o f  t h e ir sire s,the old man  app e arsagai n .Whe n  eigh ty ye ar s  h a d passed,
he walked  o nce mo re in  King Street.  Five year s l ater, in  the tw i light of an Ap ril m orning, he stood on  thegreen, b eside the m eeting-h ous e,atLex i n gt on, where now t he o be lisk of  gr anite,wit h a  sl abof  slate in laid, co mm em or at esthe f i rst fall en  of  t heRevol u tions.  Andwhen  o ur fat hers we r et o ilin gat  the  br ea stwor k
on Bun ker's H ill, allthr o ughth at  nightthe old warri or  walked
hi srou nds. L o n g, longmay it be, ere he comes again!His  hour  isone of da rkn ess, a nda dversi ty, an d per il . B u t  shou l d  d ome st ic
tyranny o ppr ess u s,  orthe inv ader's step pollut e  ou r soil, still 
ma y th e Gr ayC ha m pio nc ome , for he is the t ype of New  E n gl and's
here d ita ry  spirit ; and h is sh a dowy ma rch, on t he eve of  d ange r , 
mu st ever be  the ple dge, that New E n gl and's  so ns wil lvin dicat e
thei r  an cestr y.



T HE WED DINGKN ELL

The re is a certain churchin the  city  of  New York  wh i chI have
al ways  regardedwit h p eculi ari ntere st,o nacc o unt o f am arriage
t h er e s o l em nized, unde r v ery  sing ula r  circu msta nces, in my
grand m other's girlho od.T h atven e rabl elady chanced t o b ea spectato rof the scen e, and e ve r  afte r
 Bradstreet,_the aged_Governor, was
seen to embrace_a form_more_aged than_his_own. Others soberly
affirmed,_that while they_marvelled at the venerable_grandeur of
his aspect,_the_old man had faded from their eyes, melting slowly
into the hues of twilight, till,_where_he stood,_there_was_an
empty space. But all agreed_that the hoary shape was_gone. The
men_of that generation watched for his reappearance, in_sunshine
and_in twilight, but_never saw him more, nor knew when his
funeral passed,_nor where his gravestone was.

And who_was the Gray_Champion?_Perhaps_his name might be_found in
the records of that stern_Court of Justice, which passed a
sentence,_too mighty for the age, but glorious_in all
after-times, for its humbling lesson_to the monarch and its_high
example to_the subject. I have heard,_that whenever the
descendants_of the_Puritans are to_show the spirit of their
sires, the_old man appears_again. When eighty years had passed,
he_walked_once more in_King_Street._Five years_later, in the
twilight_of_an April_morning,_he stood on the green, beside_the
meeting-house,_at Lexington, where now the obelisk of_granite,
with a slab of_slate_inlaid, commemorates the first_fallen of the
Revolutions. And when_our fathers were toiling at the_breastwork
on Bunker's_Hill, all_through that night the old warrior walked
his rounds. Long, long may_it be, ere he comes again!_His hour is
one of_darkness, and_adversity,_and peril. But_should_domestic
tyranny oppress_us, or the invader's step pollute our_soil, still
may_the Gray Champion come, for he_is the type of_New_England's
hereditary spirit; and his shadowy march,_on the eve of danger,
must ever_be the pledge, that New_England's_sons_will vindicate
their ancestry.




THE WEDDING KNELL

There_is a certain church in the_city of New_York which I have
always regarded with peculiar_interest,_on account of a marriage
there solemnized,_under_very singular circumstances, in my
grandmother's girlhood._That_venerable_lady chanced to be a
spectator_of the scene, and ever after