The speaker, a landlord telling stories with friends at the Wayside Inn in Sudbury, Massachusetts, prepares to tell the tale of Paul Revere's ride on April 18th, 1775. He begins with Revere telling his friend to light one lantern in the belfry of the Old North Church in Boston if the British are coming by land, and two lanterns if they are coming by sea. He will wait and watch on the opposite shore and then ride to warn the countryside. Revere departs as the moon rises over the bay, illuminating the British ship The Somerset.
The friend watches and listens in the quiet night streets. He finally hears the footsteps of British soldiers as they carry their boats down to the shore. He mounts the tower, startling the pigeons. He pauses to look out over the sleeping, moonlit town and the churchyard of the dead. A feeling of dread steals through him; he feels lonely and afraid.
Across the shore Revere waits impatiently. After a time he sees two glimmers of light in the belfry, and spurs his horse onward. Like a spark he flies through the night, carrying the fate of the future nation. By midnight he is crossing the bridge into Medford. The fog rises and a dog barks. By one he is in Lexington, passing blank meetinghouse windows. At two he makes it to Concord, the first signs of morning stirring.
The narrator says we all know the rest of the story—how the British regulars fight the farmers and how the latter chase off the redcoats.
Paul Revere rode that night and brought his cry of alarm. His knock and his cry echo through the past and will echo once more when we have need for his midnight message.
