The Rising Eagle
Gather round ye citizens young and old,
And listen to a story that history left untold.
On that fateful night sparked by two lanterns being hung,
Much local patriotism beckons to be sung.
Recall back then Malden and Melrose were one,
An alliance that lasted centuries before coming undone.
Remember too the colonist’s ever-growing vexation
At the Crown’s endless schemes of taxing without representation.
Recognizing the turmoil that pervaded 1775,
Reveals the fearlessness of this patriotic bee hive.
Fed up with the never-ending issues at hand,
Our forbearers brazenly took their stand.
Whenever they gathered to deliberate on Independence,
Their meeting room filled with near perfect attendance.
When Congress finally called for a vote to sever British ties,
Malden town was first to declare its unanimous despise.
As Colonel Revere prepared for his famous Midnight Ride,
One town daringly stood ready, resolute, and unified.
Like Revere, other Sons of Liberty astride their trusted horses,
Risked everything to defeat the British forces.
One nameless horseman departed to a legendary gathering place,
Malden’s local tavern and Independence’s unofficial home base.
“The Rising Eagle,” as it was known back then,
Was the spot everyone visited time and again.
Even John and Abigail Adams frequented here,
A sure sign that it offered more than great beer.
Envision the conversations that would there unfold,
And you will have a memory to forever behold.
In the dead-still darkness the silence was broken
And everyone within earshot was awoken.
Upon hearing the alarm, “The regulars are out,”
The townsmen proved what they were about.
Bells were rung, and torches were lit,
Signaling to all it was time to outfit.
In the northern most boundary, a place called Pond Fielde,
A profound love of country would soon be revealed.
Beneath the Great Elm, the Pond Fielders all met,
Knowing this night they would never forget.
“Off to the Eagle!” they stamped through the night,
Eighteen brave men, each ready to fight.
Then, in step to Win Sargeant’s drum,
The Minutemen marched to history’s greatest outcome.
Each fought to protest an unthinkable slight,
That soon would become their “inalienable right.”
For those who survived and were able to return,
It’s not hard to imagine where they would adjourn.
They’d share war stories and their disdain for a king
Who forever refused to do the right thing.
In a legendary tavern which no longer exists,
The echo of yesteryear steadfastly persists.
Against pomp and oppression and anything regal,
Nothing but revolt arose from The Rising Eagle.