Chapter 15: A Slight Misunderstanding at the Jasper Gate
OH, do you hear the argument, far up above the skies? The voice of old Saint Peter, in expostulation rise? Growing shrill, and ever shriller, at the thing that's being done; More in sorrow than in anger, like our old Jack Robertson. Old Saint Peter's had his troubles--heaps of troubles, great and small, Since he kept the gates of Heaven--but this last one covers all! It is not a crowing rooster--that's a sight and sound he's useter, Simulated by some impish spirit that he knows full well; It is simply Drake, of Devon, who is breaking out of Heaven, With a crew of pirate brethren, to come down once more to Hell!
Oh, do you hear the distant sound, that seems to come and go, As thunder does in summer time, when faraway and low? Or the "croon" beneath the church bells, when they're pealing from the tower-- And the church bells are the battle-call in this dark, anxious hour. Do you feel the distant throbbing; Do you feel it go and come; Like a war hymn on horizons, or a centuries-mellowed drum! Hear it sobbing, hear it throbbing, like some not unhappy sobbing-- By the peaceful Devon landscape and the fair Devonian home! By the land those spirits meet in--and it's Drake's Drum, spirit-beaten, By perhaps the Rose of Torridge--and it's calling Drake to come?
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