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PROF. MARCUS BLAKEY ALLMOND. 
 
Pmirfmx, 
 
 A NARRATIVE POEM. 
 
 MARCUS BLAKEY ALLMOND, A.M., 
 
 Magazine Medalist, University of Virginia; Head-niaster, The Uni- 
 versity School, 104 East Jacob Street, Louisville, Ky.; Author 
 of ''Estelle and Other Poems," "Agricola," "Outlines 
 of Latin Syntax," Etc., Etc. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 Published hy the Author, Louisville, Ky. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1892, by 
 
 MARCUS B. ALLMOND, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 All Rights Reserved. 
 
 Gift 
 Author 
 
 (Pertt:.^) 
 
 9 Mr 'OR 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 A few years ago I published " Estelle." The first edition 
 soon went and the second edition of one thousand copies 
 is about exhausted. But recently, from California, Iowa, 
 Texas, Kentucky and Virginia came a call for it the same 
 week. It is useless, therefore, to say there are not some 
 to whom these rhymes, that come to me as songs to birds, 
 are not pleasurable. Of one thing I feel sure — they can 
 not bring harm to a human soul, and, if I may trust the 
 letters I have received, they have carried a bit of freshness 
 and comfort to many smitten by the hand of sorrow, and 
 they have drawn closer together young hearts in a holy 
 gladness that comes but once in a life-time and is worth the 
 loving endeavor of the grandest hero who has ever looked 
 into the grim cannon's murderous mouth for his country's 
 welfare. If it be true that he who causes two blades of 
 grass to grow where formerly there was but one is a patriot, 
 can it be less true that he is a patriot who heightens the 
 mutual esteem of two tender young hearts, sheds sunshine 
 and gladness into them and makes them even for one brief 
 moment dream that the world is indeed beautiful and life 
 is indeed worth living? All too soon many clouds will 
 darken the landscape for them. While still they may 
 enjoy the golden glories of the dawn-lit lands "in the 
 morning time" (to quote my litde boy) of life, why shall 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 not I do. my best to help them in honest and honorable, if 
 simple, wise. This at least is my chief thought and on it 
 I rest my case. For, pardon me, if I admit that, owing to 
 the chilling, commercial atmosphere in which we live, I 
 feel that I have a case to plead, when I commit the rash- 
 ness of a rhyme for the sake of good fellowship merely and 
 with no distinct and ultimate purpose of pecuniary or 
 political preferment. The Prince of this world reckons our 
 station by what we have, not what we are; by what we 
 get, not what we give, and we may not expect his smile 
 nor receive the unction of his benediction; but there are 
 subtle and abiding pleasures that many a humble heart has 
 that the Prince of this world knows not nor can ever know, 
 gives not nor can ever give, takes not away nor can ever 
 take. These in the secret silences of my life I enjoy and 
 out of them I look with serenity upon the busy, battling 
 crowds that surge about me — many of them the votaries of 
 the Prince who applauds the winner, win he never so 
 ignobly, and ignores the vanquished, be his cause as grand 
 as that of Leonidas and his heart as pure as the very lily's. 
 Expecting therefore nothing from the exchequers of the 
 mart, conscious of the purity of my purposes and my life, 
 asking nothing but that my friends be my good friends still, 
 and resolved as much as in me lies to be at peace with all 
 the world, I am, in God's hands, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY SCHOOL, 
 
 104 East Jacob Street, 
 
 Louisville, Ky., November 24th, 1892. 
 
TO ONE AND ALL. 
 
 Again, amid the gliding years, 
 
 L lay aside restricting fears, 
 
 And venture noiv once more to give 
 
 The world the life / daily live. 
 
 These thoughts L set to jingling rhyme 
 
 Are with me running all the time. 
 
 1 can not down them if L would ; 
 
 L would not down them if I could. 
 
 They keep me on the hillsides green 
 
 Or in the valleys down between ; 
 
 They keep me 'mid the waving trees, 
 
 The songs of birds and buzz of bees ; 
 
 They keep me where the flowers bloom ; 
 
 They sometimes lead me into gloom ; 
 
 They lead me by the purling streams ; 
 
 They lap me in Celestial dreams ; 
 
 They fill my heart with boundless love, 
 
 And lift my soul in prayer above. 
 
 Good friends, who know and love me, you 
 
 Have always been and still are true. 
 
 I greet you witJi a loving smile, 
 
 A good warm heart all free fro jn guile. 
 
 My head goes often wrong L kiiow ; 
 
 L would to God it ivere not so. 
 
 My heart, is right {you know) and would 
 
 Delight in ahvays doing good. 
 
TO ONE AND ALL. 
 
 Despite all this, there will arise 
 Some things we must antagonize. 
 Some persons there will ever be 
 Who ivith us all will disagree, 
 A?id take amiss our best meant acts 
 Nor wait for figu7'es or for facts. 
 We can but do our best and trust 
 God and the future will be just. 
 We can but keep our hearts aglow 
 With love and hope and tender flow 
 Of kindly feeling and restrain 
 Our hands from heaping murderous gain,- 
 Then, if there be, as be there will, 
 Those who'll not like our life-ivo7'k still. 
 And spread their dislike with the tongue ; 
 Still be our loving heart-songs sung. 
 Unconscious of intended wrong. 
 We move serenely life along 
 With heart aglow with holy love 
 Caught from Celestial spheres above, 
 With hands extended still to do 
 Some kindly act, O friends, for you, 
 And eager to repay 7vith good 
 Afoeman, if misunderstood 
 We come beneath his anger dire 
 And face his well-delivered fire. 
 With hate toward none and love aglow 
 Here's to you, friend. Here's to you, foe. 
 May God, who rules with wisdom true. 
 Bless you and me. All hail — Adieu, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 I. THE CHASE i 
 
 II. ON THE LAKE 9 
 
 III. THE DEPARTURE 21 
 
 IV. CREDE LYLE 25 
 
 V. TO ARMS 37 
 
 VI. CORDELE 43 
 
 VII. REVENGE 47 
 
 VHI. IN PERIL'S GRASP 51 
 
 IX. THE GALA-NIGHT 57 
 
 X. NOUS VERRONS 65 
 
 XI. IN HIS VINEYARD 73 
 
 XII. TO EACH HIS WAY 79 
 
 XIII. SIMPLICITY 85 
 
 XIV. SOLDIER, ON! 91 
 
 XV. CORDELE 97 
 
 XVI. THE COMBAT 105 
 
 XVII. THE CHRISTMAS FETE 11^, 
 
THE CHASE. 
 
 ) IP the long length of "Gillet's Spur" 
 
 The tired stag at noon-day went, 
 And full twain dozen do^s, at least, 
 
 The forest echoes tore and rent. 
 He crossed the mountain's crown and sped 
 
 On down the path that led below 
 To where the circling valley spread 
 
 A wealth of summer's golden glow. 
 A thousand trees with life and leaf 
 
 Were glad with hope and royal glee, 
 Along the trail the frightened stag 
 
 Now chose his panting way to flee. 
 (I) 
 
THE CHASE. 
 
 A thousand flowers bloomed and breathed 
 
 Upon their beds of moss and loam; 
 A thousand birds with throats made glad 
 
 The precincts of their forest home. 
 Still on and on the young stag ran 
 
 Through winding woods, by forest streams, 
 While from the mountain top there rose 
 
 The dogs' shrill yelps and huntsmen's screams. 
 Young Fairfax led the dashing crowd 
 
 And Jules McMurdo followed near;* 
 Sim Waldron next now bends him o'er 
 
 And whispers in his horse's ear. 
 With whip and steel the riders rash 
 
 Leap over rocks and rails and all, 
 And answer with a loud huzza 
 
 The rushing hounds' far distant call, 
 Or wind a horn whose echoes shrill 
 
 Adown the mountain's side now sped. 
 And reached the fleeino- staof and filled 
 
 His heart with yet a deeper dread. 
 
 (2) 
 
THE CHASE, 
 
 The farm-house, white and large and strong-^ 
 
 Embowered 'mid the shrubbery lay, 
 While oak and beech and hickory vied 
 
 To keep the summer's sun away. 
 The mill-creek ran adown the vale 
 
 And kissed the meadow-lands and sent 
 Its dewy breath along the hills 
 
 Where corn-rows ran and swayed and bent; 
 And now far down the way it met 
 
 "The Pond" and widened out and grew 
 To be a pretty lake whose waves 
 
 Were, like the skies above them, blue. 
 The stag came onward at a pace 
 
 That spoke his dread nor stopped nor stayed 
 Until he reached the farm-house where 
 
 He sought the women, sore afraid. 
 Jean reached her lily arm and placed 
 
 It 'round his neck in fond caress; 
 He eyed her with a look that said, 
 
 "She'll rescue me in my distress." 
 
 (3) 
 
THE CHASE. 
 
 Full many an hour had Jean and he 
 
 Together roamed the woodlands o'er, 
 Full many a time upon the heights 
 
 Stopped at some neighbor's open door; 
 Full many a time he'd circled 'round 
 
 The pathway they had often gone; 
 But ne'er before had his good ear 
 
 Caught dogs' deep cry or huntsman's horn. 
 **Be still my pretty deer," she said, 
 
 ''They shall not harm a single hair; 
 Your mistress loves you and will show 
 
 These saucy huntsmen what you are. " 
 The light shown in her deep brown eyes, 
 
 Her chestnut locks were rich and neat, 
 Her cheeks were rosy, and her skin, 
 
 A luscious hue, was soft and sweet. 
 She smiled and opened lips that were 
 
 As cherries in the May-time seem. 
 Her pearly teeth were finer far 
 
 Than poet ever yet could dream. 
 
 (4) 
 
THE CHASE. 
 
 She laughed and rippling music fell 
 
 In merry waves upon the ear. 
 She laughed, and when she did, she grew 
 
 To all who heard her still more dear. 
 Cordelia by her side now stood — 
 
 Anon she turned about and laid 
 Her hand upon the frightened deer — 
 
 A pretty, blue-eyed city maid. 
 The dogs were coming down the side 
 
 Of long "^''No Business," and their cry 
 Drew near and nearer to the house 
 
 With threats that meant to kill or die. 
 Cordele and Jean feared for their pet, 
 
 And led it up the steps in rear, 
 Along the porch-way to the hall, 
 
 Along the hall-way, and, in fear, 
 Up the long stair-way to the porch 
 
 That crowned the front-view safe and high 
 
 * A Mountain in Virginia. 
 
 (5) 
 
THE CHASE. 
 
 And looked o'er lowlands far and near 
 
 And reaches of sweet azure sky. 
 The porch door closed, they stood and saw 
 
 The hounds now rush across the vale, 
 And huntsmen dashing- down the way 
 
 Swift and yet swifter on the trail. 
 Cordele knelt down and put her arms 
 
 About the deer's neck; Jean stood still 
 And watched the coming cavalcade, 
 
 Prepared to meet them with stout will. 
 Her eyes flashed fire and lips were full 
 
 Of ill-repressed emotion then; 
 She well could meet, and meetinor rout 
 
 An even score or more of men. 
 The dogs came on and circled round 
 
 The house and rested rieht below, 
 And sent their cries that rose and seemed 
 
 As bent to bring the poor thing woe. 
 
 The huntsmen came at break-neck speed, 
 
 And checked their horses, looked above 
 (6) 
 
THE CHASE. 
 
 And saw the quarry they pursued 
 
 Safe in the arms of tender love. 
 With lifted hats they craved them grace 
 
 And got it right upon the spot; 
 The farmer bade them light and tie 
 
 Their reeking horses piping hot. 
 Sim tipped a wink or two to Jules, 
 
 But Fairfax cool ignored their sin, 
 And stately as a lord of old 
 
 He led his retinue within. 
 
 (7) 
 
ON THE LAKE. 
 
 T^HE summer is a leal, good 
 time 
 
 For those who have no anxious thought, 
 Who catch the sunshine in their hearts 
 
 And hold it there when once 'tis caught, 
 Who meet and greet and smile and go 
 
 And come again and bid adieu 
 With kindly feeling for the old 
 
 And goodly welcome to the new, 
 Who ne'er grow old in life or heart, 
 
 Come day or night, come weal or woe, 
 But take in good part all that comes 
 
 And thank their stars that it is so. 
 Our huntsmen were a jolly set, 
 
 And royally they took their glee — 
 
 (9) 
 
ON THE LAKE. 
 
 To chase a stag upon the height 
 
 Or woo a maiden on the lea. 
 The horses sought the meadows ereen, 
 
 The masters sought the table long, 
 The dimpled maidens sat between, 
 
 And all went merry as a song. 
 Cordele was soft and winning sweet. 
 
 And Jean was stately in her grace. 
 And wit and humor, persiflage 
 
 And sense found each its proper place. 
 The meal discussed, they then withdrew 
 
 To where the spacious parlors were, 
 And music lent its subtle charm 
 
 To while away the time with cheer. 
 * 'Cordele, Cordele, " the cry went up, 
 
 ''Cordele, a song?" The blue-eyed maid 
 Then touched the keys and thus she sang 
 
 The while her fingers nimbly played. 
 
 (lO) 
 
ON THE LAKE. 
 
 ^an0» 
 
 A stag came over the mountains, O ! 
 A stag came over the mountains, O ! 
 A stag came over the mountains, O ! 
 
 And the dogs came following after. 
 Three knights came over the mountains, O ! 
 Three knights came over the mountains, O ! 
 Three knights came over the mountains, O ! 
 
 I "carn't" sing now for laughter, 
 Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, 
 
 I "carn't" sing now for laughter. 
 
 When wolves are out and abroad, my dear, 
 When wolves are out and abroad, my dear,. 
 When wolves are out and abroad, my dear, 
 
 The lambs may look for danger. 
 I've something to tell, you had better hear, 
 I've something to tell, you had better hear, 
 I've something to tell, you had better hear. 
 
 Beware, beware the stranger. 
 Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, 
 
 You had better beware the stranger. 
 
 (II) 
 
ON- THE LAKE. 
 
 Jules rose in well-feigned wrath and swore 
 
 She wronged their knightly valor, and 
 He gave his arm and led away 
 
 The little beauty from the stand. 
 They passed along the gravel walk 
 
 On toward the lake's invitine brim, 
 And Jean and Fairfax followed suit — 
 
 A maiden aunt attended Sim. 
 The sun was sinkine ii^ the west 
 
 On downy beds of varied hues, 
 The length 'ning shadows threw their arms 
 
 Around the three embarking crews. 
 Cordele and Jules sped on ahead, 
 
 Fairfax and Jean kept to the right, 
 Sim and the aunt — somewhat demure — 
 
 Slow followed on, but still in sieht. 
 Cordele was in her merry mood. 
 
 And laughed and sang and talked and ran 
 Her hand along the water's top 
 
 And dared whate'er a maiden can. 
 
 (12) 
 
ON THE LAKE. 
 
 ''I'm weary of the good and grand, 
 
 I'm weary of the city's glare, 
 I would I w^ere a bird and might 
 
 Be free to skim the realms of air; 
 I'd like to do whate'er I choose, 
 
 I'd like to go where e'er I please, 
 I'd like to say just what comes up 
 
 And take the world in perfect ease. 
 A woman — aye ! a woman, O ! 
 
 They've got me fastened up in stays. 
 They've got my feet encircled 'round 
 
 With skirts that clog my path always. 
 
 blasted bonds — a knife, a knife 
 To cut them and to make me free. 
 
 My life, my all I offer — take — 
 For one sweet breath of liberty. 
 
 1 care not for the dread 'on dit' 
 
 That rules the world and makes it sin 
 
 To step beyond the beaten path 
 
 And view the mysteries within. 
 (13) 
 
ON THE LAKE. 
 
 Here's to thee, Mater Libertas, 
 
 I raise thy standard and hurrah; 
 Peace to him who now sues for peace, 
 
 For him who sues for war, here's war, 
 Cordele is free. She bids adieu 
 
 To all restraints of time or tide; 
 Come, speed the vessel straight ahead. 
 
 And while we ride, why, let us ride. " 
 Jules answered with a merry laugh 
 
 And wicked twinkle in his eye: 
 "Fair sister of the Eastern land 
 
 I welcome your philosophy. 
 Life is too short for serious things; 
 
 The shadows lie alone the eround, 
 The sunlight comes not every day, — 
 
 Let's take it while it may be found. 
 'Dum viviinus, vivamus,' then. 
 
 The motto of our mutual plight, 
 
 We twine the gilded light of day 
 
 Around the gloomy form of night. 
 (14) 
 
ON THE LAKE. 
 
 Speed, vessel, o'er the waters blue. 
 Speed, vessel, and our song shall be 
 
 Henceforth, 'Hurrah for love and light,. 
 Hurrah for love and liberty.'" 
 
 Fairfax and Jean were soberer folks; 
 
 They talked of many noble things. 
 Of God and man and nature sweet. 
 
 And all life's wondrous happenings. 
 He loved a jest, enjoyed a laugh, 
 
 And chased a deer or winged a bird. 
 But still he loved the true and good, 
 
 And most of all, God's Blessed Word. 
 Whose heart is true can laugh as well 
 
 As he whose heart is steeped in guile; 
 Whose lips are pure can be as glad 
 
 As he whose words are reeking vile. 
 
 There is no clash between a song 
 
 That gleams with merriment and glee 
 (15) 
 
ON THE LAKE. 
 
 And that Sweet One who Hved and died 
 
 To bless the bleeding world and me. 
 The noble name that Fairfax wore 
 
 Was passport to the country wide; 
 His presence at a farmer's door 
 
 Made Jolly Welcome strut with pride. 
 This made the house he had drawn near 
 
 So warm and cheery at his sight; 
 This gave to Jean the confidence 
 
 To row abroad with coming night; 
 She felt that at the oar-locks sat 
 
 A man whose soul was Honor's own, 
 Who ruled a realm far wider than 
 
 A jeweled monarch on his throne — 
 Himself, a vast intelligence, 
 
 Wide fields of thoughts and lands of dream, 
 The inner realms of consciousness; 
 
 The hidden heavens which rounding gleam 
 With worlds on worlds within them set 
 
 And beauties of unreckoned worth 
 
 (i6) 
 
ON THE LAKE. 
 
 That make a home of endless bhss 
 
 Out of the humblest heart on earth. 
 Some natures are so nobly made 
 
 We trust them with a perfect trust; 
 Some forms so grandly fashioned are 
 
 We can't believe them made of dust. 
 They come at intervals as comes 
 
 The bloom upon the century tree, — 
 Are Philip Sidney in one age 
 
 And in another Robert Lee. 
 The seeds of their lives scattered through 
 
 All the interstices of Time 
 Will flower and fruit in every age, 
 
 On every shore, in deeds sublime. 
 Fairfax was one whom men revered, 
 
 And women worshipped as a god; 
 A leader born, he seemed to own 
 
 Each inch of ground on which he trod. 
 A subtle consciousness of worth 
 
 Clothed all he did and all he said; 
 (17) 
 
ON THE LAKE. 
 
 He feared no living man, and yet 
 
 Oft bowed before a pretty maid. 
 He saw in woman's beauty glow 
 
 The richest colors of the Hand 
 Whose skill artistic paints the world 
 
 And makes the humblest floweret grand. 
 Her presence was a hidden song 
 
 That thrilled him with a rich delight; 
 A breezy freshness clothed his form, 
 
 His face put on a newer light. 
 When on his ear her accents fell. 
 
 And on his sight there beamed her eye, 
 For her he'd bare his arm and fight ; 
 
 For her he'd win the day or die. 
 Hail heroes of the elder time! 
 
 Hail knitrhts that Arthur led of old! 
 Sir Galahad were worth to-day 
 
 A thousand knights whose god is gold. 
 
 Fairfax now wound his horn, and lo! 
 
 The three boats came from quarters wide, 
 (i8) 
 
ON THE LAKE, 
 
 And turned their prows the homeward way, 
 Slow moving onward side by side. 
 
 Cordele, the blue-eyed, raised the song, 
 And all joined in with merry glee; 
 
 The moon shone bright and sweet above, 
 And touched them with her witchery. 
 
 (19) 
 
THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 HE morrow on the hill-tops 
 
 stood 
 And sun-light shone upon her 
 face, 
 The while her pretty smile would woo 
 
 The huntsmen to another chase. 
 They gave their squires the word to bring 
 
 Their champing steeds from stables near, 
 And, taking up their horns, they wound 
 Their notes across the lowlands clear. 
 The answering cry of hounds arose 
 
 As eager for the coming fray; 
 Cordele broke into song and held 
 Her pretty cup in tempting way: 
 
 (21) 
 
THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 'Are you ready for the chase, my lads, 
 
 Across the circHng plain ? 
 Are you ready for the chase, my lads ? 
 
 Here's to you once again. 
 Lift the bugle, loose the leashes. 
 
 Let your steeds now shake their mane, 
 But before you ply the spurs, my lads, 
 
 Here's to you once again. 
 
 Are you ready for the chase, my lads, 
 
 Upon the distant steep? 
 Are you ready for the chase, my lads ? 
 
 Here's to you long and deep. 
 May the maidens that await you 
 
 Have no reason e'er to weep; 
 But before you ply the spurs, my lads. 
 
 Here's to you long and deep. 
 
 Are you ready for the chase, my lads. 
 
 Across the rivers wide ? 
 Are you ready for the chase, my lads ? 
 
 Here's health, what e'er betide. 
 Lift the bugle, loose the leashes, 
 
 And your noble steeds bestride ; 
 But before you ply your spurs, my lads, 
 
 Here's health, whate'er betide." 
 
 (22) 
 
THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 The huntsmen cheered with Hfted hats 
 
 And promised they would come again, — 
 Sank rowels in their gallant steeds 
 
 And sped across the pretty plain. 
 The dogs were gone; their hayings deep 
 
 Were heard upon the mountain's side 
 Up which our heroes clambered now 
 
 With something of a martial pride. 
 The deeds of doughty prowess done 
 
 Upon the eve of yesterday, 
 Within their hearts in fondest thought 
 
 Are stored forever now away; 
 And, though they westward ride them now 
 
 With manhood pulsing in each vein, 
 Jules dreams of Cordele's merry mood 
 
 And Fairfax walks with Jean again. 
 They reached their homes and went their ways. 
 
 The daily sun-rise came and went. 
 Days waxed to weeks, weeks waxed to months, 
 
 And seasons with the seasons blent. 
 (23) 
 
THE DEPARTURE, 
 
 Who once have met may, if they wish, 
 And naught prevent yet meet again, 
 
 Though mountains rise and surly threat 
 The pretty poutings of the plain. 
 
 (24) 
 
CREDE LYLE. 
 
 SINEWY form, an eagle 
 eye, 
 A step elastic, and an arm 
 Of Iron mould, — such was Crede 
 Lyle— 
 
 The owner of the neighboring farm. 
 An alien to these parts, he knew 
 
 The skill to make the harvest gleam 
 With glorious plenty and the grass 
 
 In velvet splendor clothe the stream. 
 As now he moved beneath the trees 
 
 And caueht the wild flower from its stalk, 
 The boughs bent low and pricked their ears 
 To listen to his fitful talk: 
 
 (25) 
 
CREDE LYLE. 
 
 **Her form is as a sculptor's dream, 
 
 Her eye is magic's self and leads 
 Me as a captive and my heart 
 
 For closer fellowship still pleads. 
 I know not what this force may be 
 
 That lies within the inmost soul 
 And will not down, but reaches forth 
 
 And holds the whole man in control. 
 I've simply met her as a friend 
 
 Should meet a neighbor, yet I know 
 She's set my flood of feelings all 
 
 Now toward her with impulsive flow. 
 A silent moon whose silver beam 
 
 Falls o'er my being's rock-ribbed shore. 
 She lashes or allays its waves — 
 
 Its mistress now and evermore." 
 An acorn from the tree now dropped; 
 
 He turned his head; not far away 
 
 Upon a clump of moss-grown rocks 
 
 A pretty deer was now at play, 
 (26) 
 
CREDE LYLE. 
 
 Upon its neck great ribbons blue, — 
 
 And ho! who's that who's just in sight— 
 A ray of sunHght hidden there 
 
 Within this almost sylvan night ? 
 He kept the path that brought him near 
 
 And tipped his hat to lovely Jean, 
 Who smiled and wove the wild red-rose 
 
 And cypress with the eglantine. 
 "I like this land," now Lyle began, 
 
 "For nature here is lavish, and 
 Her bounties smiling group and bless 
 
 The waiting eye on every hand. 
 I wandered many a good league forth 
 
 To find a spot would charm my stay 
 Until I chanced on this, I love, — 
 
 I hope — upon a lucky day. 
 The generous soil responds with glee 
 
 To kindly treatment and my bins 
 O'erflow each year and life is passed 
 
 Far from the orreat world's o^reater sins. 
 
 (27) 
 
CREDE LYLE. 
 
 A cloud o'erspread his brow just then. 
 
 His words provoked a sleeping thought; 
 To turn it off, he asked of Jean 
 
 "What pretty thing was that she wrought?' 
 "Oh! just a nosegay," she replied, 
 
 "Of wild flowers that I thought I'd make 
 For Tillie Dare, the invalid. 
 
 Who lives down yonder by the lake. 
 And wont you help me just a bit ? 
 
 Be neighborly and get me now 
 That honey-suckle standing there, 
 
 Those pretty leaves from off that bough." 
 Lyle answered now her every wish. 
 
 And heaped the rock she sat upon 
 With all the orifts the forest has 
 
 o 
 
 Until her kindly work was done. 
 Then on they moved and came at length 
 
 To where the mill-creek turned the wheel, 
 
 (\nd Tillie Dare lay pale and weak, 
 
 W^here sun-rays through the shadows steal 
 (28) 
 
CREDE LYLE. 
 
 And try to cheer her Hngering days 
 
 That need but Httle here below 
 Save human sympathy and love 
 
 To lighten with their tender glow. 
 Poor Tillie knew her days were few, 
 
 Yet repined not, but in good part 
 Bore her sad lot and gave to Jean 
 
 Warm thanks from out a grateful heart. 
 "How good you are to come and see 
 
 My fiick'ring life hang quiv'ring here! 
 The smile you bring and kindly word 
 
 Fill me always with sunnier cheer. 
 Our lives are as the days that go, 
 
 Or bright with sun or dark with cloud. 
 They bring to men or weal or woe, 
 
 And bless or blio^ht the circlinor crowd. 
 
 o o 
 
 Blest is the life that's hid with God, 
 
 Whose pathway is a ray of light 
 
 To heal the stroke of Time's rough rod 
 
 And make the gloomy world's heart bright. 
 (29) 
 
CREDE LYLE. 
 
 To him who livinor Hfts his race 
 
 To see and know the sweeter ways 
 Of his eood Master, death is erace 
 
 And plentitude of endless praise. 
 The wide circumference of soul 
 
 That circles through the lives of men 
 To bless with fellowship the whole 
 
 Finds death but life beo-un aofain. 
 
 o o 
 
 God rules — the Maker of all thino^s, 
 
 He crowns the toiler with His rest — 
 A blessed life in death still brino-s 
 
 o 
 
 The blessing of all blessings best. 
 How envied then you, needs, should be 
 
 By all whose lives your sweet life touch, 
 Not for the wealth that smiles around, 
 
 But that your hand has done so much! 
 I soon must go, but from the skies 
 
 I send my prayer that God may bless 
 
 The orentle heart whose orentle hand 
 
 Relieves the stricken in distress." 
 (30) 
 
CREDE LYLE. 
 
 Jean blushed and kissed the palHd brow; 
 
 Lyle looked at Jean and thought, "I own 
 This is the queenliest woman that 
 
 Was ever on or off a throne." 
 With kindly parting words they went 
 
 Along the lake's o'ershadowed brim; 
 The pretty deer ran at their side, 
 
 Or plunged into the lake to swim. 
 Lyle wished he had the will to say 
 
 All his heart felt, but 't was in vain; 
 So he resolved he'd put it off. 
 
 Until by chance they met again. 
 They talked as people who have read 
 
 And travelled much are wont to talk, 
 And found when they had reached her home 
 
 They each had had a pleasant walk. 
 The shades of eve were coming on, 
 
 When Credo bade adieu and went 
 
 His homeward way with busy thoughts 
 
 And head unconscious downward bent. 
 (31) 
 
CREDE LYLE. 
 
 What thoughts he thought — what memories 
 woke — 
 
 I can not tell, I only know 
 His brow was pursed, his hand was clenched, 
 
 He struggled with some hidden woe. 
 He muttered to himself strange words 
 
 Of "fate" and "wrone" and "who could 
 tell?" 
 When on his ear a cheery song. 
 
 Yet tinged with sorrow, sudden fell. 
 He looked and there the cottage home 
 
 Of Embry Duncan lay before, 
 And "Luce, "his daughter, swuno- the churn 
 
 And sang just out the vine-clad door : 
 
 (32) 
 
CREDE LYLE. 
 
 * 'Dapple Daisy down the meadow lowing comi^ back, 
 And the calf within the cowpen runs the beaten track. 
 Each is happy with the thinking of the meeting near, 
 But I sit and wait still wishing for thy coming, dear. 
 
 Churn, go forward. 
 
 Churn, go backward. 
 While my song must be : 
 
 Come, butter, come, 
 
 Come, butter, come, 
 And come, my love, to me. 
 
 Birds are singing gaily upon bush and tree ; 
 Each as happy with its mate as a bird can be. 
 If they part a moment, they soon meet again; 
 But thy lingering, loved one, gives me endless pain. 
 
 Churn, go forward, 
 
 Churn, go backward. 
 While my song must be : 
 
 Come, butter, come. 
 
 Come, butter, come. 
 And come, my love, to me." 
 
 iZZ) 
 
CREDE LYLE. 
 
 He shook his head as on he passed. 
 
 ''Sweet child," he thought, *'you do not 
 know 
 Nor ever will, I hope, the depths — 
 
 The deepest depths of hidden woe. 
 The bloom is on your pretty cheek. 
 
 Be patient and he'll soon be here. 
 The butter comes and so comes he 
 
 To give you joy and share your cheer. 
 Who sighs for wider sweep of life 
 
 But sighs for wider chance of wrong. 
 May all the 'endless pain' you have 
 
 Flow forth, my pretty maid, in song. 
 And, while it sweetens your pent heart, 
 
 Make glad the wings of neighboring air, 
 And bless alike the maker and 
 
 The object of your gentle prayer. 
 For me, ah! well" — he crossed the creek, 
 
 Passed through the gate and stood 
 before 
 
 (34) 
 
CREDE LYLE. 
 
 His home, reached out and turned the knob 
 Passed in and locked the heavy door. 
 
 (35) 
 
TO ARMS. 
 
 5 TERN war arose. The rolling- drum 
 And shrill voiced fife were calling men 
 To arms! to arms! and tramping feet 
 
 Throughout the land were heard again. 
 Fairfax rode o'er his acres wide, 
 
 And viewed them in their laughing wealth. 
 His workmen met him with a smile, 
 
 Rejoicing in their homes and health. 
 He siofhed to think of what he'd read 
 
 Of war and its destructive hand. 
 
TO ARMS. 
 
 And wondered when the Master's love 
 
 Would bring sweet peace to every land. 
 He loved his country and her rights, — 
 
 His mother State far best of all, 
 And there resolved he'd draw no sword 
 
 Save at her most emphatic call. 
 But then, alas! too soon it came — 
 
 The tide of battle sweeping by; 
 He saw his State's dread jeopardy 
 
 And heard her to her children cry. 
 Along the vales, upon the hills, 
 
 Th' awakened farmers gathered then 
 And looked about them for a man — 
 
 The leader of his fellow-men. 
 All tongues cried out, ''Fairfax, Fairfax" - 
 
 All eyes now sought him from afar. 
 Jules, Sim and hundreds more now came 
 
 To have him lead them forth to war. 
 He donned his uniform and sword 
 
 And mounted on his famous steed. 
 
TO ARMS. 
 
 With will to meet the stoutest foe 
 
 And heart to pity those who'd bleed. 
 Still more and more the throng increased 
 
 Till all the old ''militia ground" 
 Was filled with farmers, workmen, all 
 
 Who lived for miles and miles around. 
 The drilling squadrons moved by day; 
 
 The camp-fires glowed at fall of night; 
 The hearts of men seemed bent upon 
 
 One thought alone ''to fight, to fight." 
 Fairfax moved here and there and made 
 
 Arrangements for th' unlettered crowd. 
 While in his sacred heart he bore 
 
 A silent prayer, their talk was loud. 
 They clamored for the coming fight 
 
 And revelled in the thought of gore; 
 He prayed within his heart for peace — 
 
 For peace and brotherhood once more. 
 For war is war, terrific and 
 
 The hand of passion running mad, 
 
 (39) 
 
TO ARMS. 
 
 The woe of woman and the worst 
 
 Of foes a child has ever had. 
 The savings of unnumbered years, 
 
 The guidings of a father's hand, 
 The generous promptings of the heart 
 
 When peace and plenty fill the land; 
 These in wild flames are swept away. 
 
 And on the coming youth is thrown 
 The harvest of unnumbered woes, 
 
 Thick through the coming morrows sown. 
 
 o o 
 
 This Fairfax knew and on his brow 
 
 Care stamped her wrinkle, and his heart 
 Was heavy with the woes he knew 
 
 Were War's own bitter, bounden part. 
 Alone upon his matchless steed 
 
 Across the hill, across the plain, 
 And o'er the mountains was he come 
 
 To sweet ** Glen-Mary" once again. 
 Jean met him with a smile of peace, 
 
 A hand that good, warm welcome gave; 
 
 (40) 
 
TO ARMS. 
 
 But sorrowed at his serious brow 
 
 And martial manner stern and grave. 
 
 At hour fitting forth they went, 
 Beneath the overhanging trees, 
 
 In quiet chat of events which 
 
 Would soon be winged across the seas. 
 
 (41) 
 
CORDELE. 
 
 HE smoke was hanging thick 
 
 and grim 
 Above the city's throbbing 
 heart, 
 
 Where pulsed the blood of traffic and 
 Where pined in poverty High Art. 
 The greedy herd moved on and bowed 
 
 With one accord to Mammon's sway, — 
 With vice they thrilled the heart of night, 
 
 With painted virtue cheated day. 
 A pretty mansion rising high 
 
 Upon a noted thoroughfare — 
 A cosy chamber — windows wide — 
 And Cordele reading sitting there; — 
 
 (43) 
 
CORDELE. 
 
 This is the picture, and we hear 
 
 The words she reads — this blue-eyed 
 belle— 
 "I come, Cordele, the war is on; 
 
 I come, my love, to bid farewell." 
 ''He comes — dear Jules! He comes, and I 
 
 Shall scatter roses in his way. 
 My father's wealth shall gild the night 
 
 And frame in joy the fleeting day. 
 He's made it and I know not how. 
 
 He o-ives it time he ne'er g^ave me. 
 I'll spend it as I get a chance 
 
 In many a jolly jamboree. 
 Come, Jules, soul of my soul, and we. 
 
 My naughty soldier-boy, shall sound 
 The depth of every jollity. 
 
 That in this city may be found. 
 So that I drink the bumper full 
 
 The present moment gives, I care 
 
 (44) 
 
CORDELE. 
 
 No whit for all the after moons 
 
 That wax and wane, however fair. 
 The heart that built this mansion grand 
 
 Knows nothing of those softer things 
 (The goody good will prate of them) 
 
 About which every poet sings. 
 He lauofhs to scorn these Christian thoughts, 
 
 And I but echo in my heart 
 The thoughts that days and months and 
 years 
 
 Have been of him the larger part. 
 Here's to thee, sweet Utility, 
 
 His end and aim the dollar is, 
 Mine is my pleasure and I find 
 
 That mine is mine, since his is his. 
 Servant, ahoy! bring up the cup 
 
 Thy master drinks his wine from, I 
 Will see if I can quench my thirst 
 
 As he does often when he's dry. 
 
 (45) 
 
CORDELE. 
 
 Bring me a 'Ouida.' Let me read 
 
 Of gilded sin as virtue rare. 
 If callers ring, tell them, I pray, 
 
 I've gone a driving — anywhere. 
 So that I get my ease, I care 
 
 But little for this social whir 
 That money buys. Sweet Voluptas, 
 
 I am your loving worshipper. 
 Come, Jules, and join me and we'll find 
 
 Two hearts that beat for aye as one; 
 Here's to thee, con amore, mine — 
 
 A bumper, once, twice, thrice, I've done." 
 
 (46) 
 
REVENGE. 
 
 ^REDE LYLE was reared upon 
 ^ the lap 
 Of Luxury, and his life had 
 lain 
 Amid a stormy war of words 
 
 Wrought by the miser-heart of Gain. 
 Nor had the conflict stopped with words, 
 
 But Passion stirred the pistol's flame; — 
 A human life was offered up 
 
 To satisfy fell Anger's claim. 
 His mother was a vengeful soul 
 
 Who ne'er forgave a conceived harm. 
 But nursed her wrath against the day 
 She could assuage it with her arm. 
 
 (47) 
 
REVENGE. 
 
 Hamilcar-like she led her charge — 
 
 A dimpled boy — and made him swear 
 Eternal veneeance on each head 
 
 Her caprice chose just anywhere. 
 Enough she had to squander far 
 
 In idle chance and yet her greed 
 Still clamored more and more for more 
 
 Than any human soul could need. 
 An honored name was linked in trade 
 
 With her dead husband's, and she 
 dreamed 
 A wrong was wrought her, and her eye 
 
 At mention of that eood name eleamed. 
 The wordy war had lingered on 
 
 In suit with suit in common law, 
 Till Justice cast it out at length, 
 
 And stirred her with its solemn awe. 
 She took redress unto herself 
 
 And, leading by his hand her boy, 
 
 (48) 
 
REVENGE. 
 
 She made him fire the fatal shot 
 
 That slew a household's tender joy — 
 The gentlest of his race and best — 
 
 The eldest of the Fairfax name, 
 Whose fancied wrong she'd laid away 
 
 And nurtured as a holy flame. 
 The hand of Law had siezed and placed 
 
 Her frenzied soul in "durance vile;" 
 For life, the nation's miardians thought 
 
 It best to house her witless euile. 
 For safety's sake Crede went elsewhere; 
 
 But she had nursed his wrath to fiame 
 And urged and urged him ne'er to leave. 
 
 On her cursed soul, one of that name. 
 One day he heard Jean mention — what? 
 
 The Fairfax name and speak its praise. 
 His heart leaped high and passion stirred 
 
 As it had stirred in other days. 
 She told him of the comine war — 
 
 o 
 
 The tramp of men and loud alarms — 
 
 (49) 
 
REVENGE. 
 
 The flocking of the freemen all 
 
 In answer to the call to arms. 
 And, when he learned that Fairfax led 
 
 The embattled hosts, his spirit stirred 
 To lead his foes and meet him yet, — 
 
 But still he spoke no bitter word. 
 Henceforth in vale and mountain dell 
 
 He souofht for comrades for his flao-, 
 And trained them to the use of arms 
 
 On lowland leas and upland crag. 
 For one fell purpose they were called — 
 
 A holy one to him he dreamed; — 
 To slay a wrecker of his home, 
 
 Each drawn and sharpened sword now 
 gleamed. 
 He tutored them in sweet revenge. 
 
 And told them of his mother's wrongs. 
 They mixed their anger in their cups 
 
 And sang it in their battle songs. 
 
 (50) 
 
IN PERIL'S GRASP. 
 
 1 I I HEN Fairfax now at 
 that calm hour 
 Forth 'neath the trees 
 walked arm in arm 
 With pretty Jean, he never dreamt 
 
 An eye was near that meant him harm. 
 Crede Lyle, as fate would have it, walked 
 
 In meditative mood along, 
 And every thought was teeming now 
 
 With something of his fancied wrong. 
 When suddenly he saw quite near 
 Two forms majestic moving on; 
 He stepped from off the path and stood 
 
 Behind the heavy scented thorn. 
 
 (51) 
 
IN PERIVS GRASP. 
 
 Too deep their thoughts imbedded were 
 
 In events fraught with thousands' fate 
 To scan the pretty landscape for 
 
 The nurser of a hidden hate. 
 Lyle's eye was gleaming and his heart 
 
 Was beatino- as 't would burst in twain. 
 His passion ebbed and flowed and ebbed 
 
 And flowed and ebbed and flowed again. 
 He took his pistol — cocked it — raised 
 
 His hand and took deliberate aim; 
 Jean moving on and talking soft 
 
 Unconscious now between them came. 
 "Poor human beings," thus she spoke, 
 
 "There is, I think, enough of woe 
 In this sweet world for men who're men 
 
 To stop and think and know it's so. 
 Before they draw their swords and try 
 
 To hew each other and make moan 
 
 For thousands who on either side 
 
 Are doubly dear unto their own. 
 (52) 
 
IN PERILS GRASP. 
 
 There was a time when Odin ruled 
 
 And Hogni's heart on dish was laid 
 And served to Gunnar and he smiled 
 
 With calm sweet joy as sooth he said: 
 'The heart of Hogni by the side 
 
 Of timid Hialli's heart has rest; 
 It trembles little in the dish, 
 
 It trembled less while in his breast. 
 I'll roast and eat it — drink its blood 
 
 To give my heart a stouter stroke, 
 And teach my hand a readier skill 
 
 To wield the knife or club of oak. 
 My happiness in battle lies. 
 
 Red slaughter is the soldier's part. 
 Ah! what is sweeter than the blood 
 
 Drunk warm from out a foeman's heart ?' 
 But Christ is come. Peace and good-will, 
 
 These are the new world's corner stones. 
 
 For every woe a glad, new joy 
 
 And healing hands for broken bones. 
 (53) 
 
IN PERIVS GRASP. 
 
 Fie on the man who can not bear 
 
 A wrong and right it with a good! 
 Shall all the centuries come and go 
 
 And lift us to no better mood? 
 Does Odin reign that any now 
 
 Should batten on a brother's woe? 
 Christ finds a kinsman hidden there 
 
 Beneath the jacket of a foe. 
 Come, men, be nie^t and right your wrongs 
 
 As 7ne7i with men should right them now. 
 With Christ's love warm within your hearts 
 
 And Christ's truth written on your brow. " 
 Crede Lyle heard all her sweet voice spoke; 
 
 He dropped his pistol by his side. 
 They walked on quite unconscious still 
 
 Amid the forests sweeping wide. 
 What Fairfax said in his response 
 
 Was what a man of honor should. 
 Crede turned upon his heel and went 
 
 Straight on and out the brooding wood. 
 
 (54) 
 
IN PERIVS GRASP. 
 
 "For her dear sake I let him Hve, 
 
 I yet shall wing him on the way. 
 He knows not that a tiger lies 
 
 Close by to spring upon its prey." 
 At once he sped him to the home 
 
 Of Embry Duncan and conferred 
 Upon the time of rendez-vous — 
 
 The speeding of the clarion word 
 That was to gather from the dells, 
 
 The crags high up the mountains' side, 
 The swift hands that could wing a hawk 
 
 Or split the panther's fluffy hide. 
 And as he talked with Embry there 
 
 Luce sat a spinning in the room. 
 Or gathered from the pretty grass 
 
 The leaves, new fallen, with her broom. 
 She listened to their plans and felt 
 
 Her blood creep cold in every vein. 
 They spoke of death. Her father's name, 
 
 Her lover's now she heard again. 
 
 (55) 
 
IN PEE IV S GRASP. 
 
 What, if her father fell in fight? 
 
 What, if her lover died too soon? 
 These bitter thouofhts ran throuo^h her mind 
 
 And chilled her all the afternoon. 
 
 (56) 
 
THE GALA-NIGHT. 
 
 '7"IS presto and we make a 
 chano-e 
 
 f/H^ To where the city's surging 
 
 1^ tide 
 
 ^ Flows streaming through its 
 
 ' ' thoroughfares 
 
 'Neath lights that flare and flicker wide. 
 Here stands apart sad squalor now — 
 
 A home where horror loves to dwell, 
 That reeks with all the vices and 
 
 The passions of an earthly hell. 
 Now yonder is a pale, sweet child 
 
 That drinks the germs of death that lie 
 Upon the stench of stagnant pools 
 
 That turn the nose and fret the eye. 
 
 (57) 
 
THE GALA-NIGHT. 
 
 Beyond, the car-bells jingle clear 
 
 Upon the air. Anon the gleam 
 Of rich electric arcs that pour 
 
 Their pretty lights in constant stream. 
 The bawd's loud laugh re-echoes now 
 
 Her victim's bitter charge and see 
 The erring lad now staggers by — 
 
 A dupe to wine's sad witchery. 
 An open door; the blind awry; 
 
 A wretch within with lifted cup; 
 An oath; a burly form that sits 
 
 Swift from its seat now rises up; 
 A dagger gleams; we pass along. 
 
 Two porters bear a burden here; 
 A beggar lifts her hand and pleads 
 
 With quivering voice and falling tear; 
 Three wao^ons oro in hurried rush; 
 
 A lad belated cries the news; 
 
 A shopman takes and stores away 
 
 A string of antiquated shoes; 
 (58) 
 
THE GALA-NIGHT. 
 
 Two merchants arm in arm now walk 
 
 Upon this better thoroughfare; 
 A maiden and a youth make love 
 
 Just at the foot of this broad stair; 
 A couple — richly clad and prim — 
 
 Pass on to see the famous play; 
 A carriage with its owner comes — 
 
 A pretty chestnut and a gray; 
 A loiterer lingers 'long the street 
 
 Pries in the windows, scans them lone; 
 An urchin, ragged, happy faced. 
 
 Breaks into snatches of sweet sone. 
 The noise grows less and less and now 
 
 The yards lie round the mansions, and 
 The eye beholds a sweeping stretch 
 
 Of massive structures rising grand. 
 The trees in leaf, the flowers in bloom, 
 
 The grasses soft and rich and green, 
 And fountains playing pretty streams 
 
 At intervals now set between, 
 
 (59) 
 
THE GALA-NIGHT. 
 
 Make all the air as fresh and sweet 
 
 As grottoes of the pretty fay 
 Who revels in fair Nature's lap 
 
 Upon a charming summer day. 
 Here rising up was Cordele's home — 
 
 A flood of light, a breathing bower 
 Of wondrous beauty, wreathed and sweet 
 
 With buntinof and with bloomingr flower. 
 A gala-night she makes it now. 
 
 And crowds of friends are streaming in. 
 Erelong the waiting ear is glad, — 
 
 The baton bids the ball begin. 
 The pretty dancers come and go 
 
 Like fire-flies on the meadow-land 
 Or swells of dashinof billows that 
 
 Roll up and off the sea-swept sand. 
 The gleam of gold, the brilliant flash 
 
 Of diamond and encircling pearl 
 
 Adorn alike the matron and 
 
 The pretty stripling of a girl. 
 (60) 
 
THE GALA-NIGHT. 
 
 The silk and satin gleam and mix 
 
 With tulle and brocade and fine lace, 
 Each pretty color 'ranged to make 
 
 More pretty still each pretty face. 
 And arms and necks and shoulders rise 
 
 In rounded plumpness quite as fair 
 As snow-flakes on their gentle way 
 
 From out the realms of upper air. 
 ''O Life! O Life!" sighed Cordele as 
 
 She rested now within the arm 
 Of Jules, whose gaze she riveted 
 
 As with a subtle, ceaseless charm. 
 He never saw her eye so blue. 
 
 The color on her cheek so rare. 
 Such pretty, golden, shimmering light. 
 
 Enmeshed within her glorious hair; 
 Nor heard her laugh as waters pour 
 
 Such rippling music on his ear; 
 Nor felt her pretty little foot 
 
 Trip 'round him half so light and clear. 
 
 (6i) 
 
THE GALA-NIGHT. 
 
 The modiste and the maid had both 
 
 Conspired with Nature for a form, 
 Would sweep his very breath away 
 
 And take his whole heart as by storm. 
 If e'er before there was a doubt 
 
 Of his surrender to her wiles, 
 It now forever dissipates 
 
 Beneath the magic of her smiles. 
 And she — ah! she, this paragon, 
 
 This thing of beauty made to please. 
 Yon looker-on can never dream 
 
 That such as she are ill at ease; 
 But where the music's pretty call 
 
 Floats to the ear and all things seem 
 As happy as a heart can be 
 
 Are troubles we may never dream. 
 Cordele has had her stubborn \\2^y, — 
 
 The dancers come, the dancers eo; 
 
 Their nimble feet are dancino- time 
 
 Unto her everlasting woe. 
 (62) 
 
THE GALA-NIGHT, 
 
 The heart-aches and the pangs that be 
 
 Amid the revels of the dance, 
 Thank God! are hidden from the view 
 
 Of all save His all-seeine elance. 
 And those who see sweet beauty's spell 
 
 And gladden at its witchery, 
 May never know the things that are 
 
 Or dream the thino-s that are to be. 
 
 o 
 
 God rules and He alone should know 
 The Future and the Future's will; 
 
 For He alone can put His arms 
 Around us and can save us still. 
 
 (63) 
 
NOUS VERRONS. 
 
 ANOTHER day was 
 / come and now 
 
 Fairfax prepared to 
 
 bid adieu. 
 
 His horse stood at the 
 
 o^reat front eate; 
 
 He lingered as most lovers do. 
 
 Upon the heights Lyle ranged his troop 
 
 And from an out-post, glass In hand, 
 
 Bent forward scanning with his eye 
 
 The reaches of out-lying land — 
 
 He sees the horse, the rider sees. 
 
 And turninor bids his comrades know 
 
 Their prey is moving o'er the plain 
 
 Which they had left an hour ago. 
 (65) 
 
NOUS VERRONS. 
 
 "No fooline when the moment comes. 
 . Strike death to him and that right sure. 
 He'll cross my path and thwart my plans 
 
 With his dread presence never more." 
 Unconscious of the lurking fate 
 
 His hidden foe held for him now, 
 Fairfax rode o'er the rich, brown road 
 
 That clambered to the hillock's brow 
 Then darted down and lay between 
 
 Great stretches of sweet clover-field. 
 And rose ao^ain where wavino- oats 
 
 Unto wide sweeps of orchard yield. 
 The blue-bird caroled on the limb; 
 
 A lazy vulture sailed o'er head; 
 A rabbit stealing from the field 
 
 Now up the roadway startled sped; 
 A cottage home soon comes in view; 
 
 A bevy of gray geese now hiss; 
 
 A barking dog jumps at the fence, 
 
 And at the window sits a miss; 
 (66) 
 
NOUS VERRONS. 
 
 The creek beyond runs o'er the stones 
 
 And deepens at the neighboring ford; 
 Two oxen quench their raging thirst, 
 
 Worn hot beneath the heavy load; 
 The driver bows and keeps his eye 
 
 Upon the stately horseman's form, 
 Takes off his hat and with his cloth 
 
 Wipes his tanned brow now reeking 
 warm ; 
 The sunlight lay on grasses sweet 
 
 With subtle perfumes, and the air 
 Was rich with exhalations that 
 
 Rose up to greet him everywhere. 
 His mind was busy with the calls 
 
 Stern Duty placed upon his brow; 
 His heart for peace was longing, but 
 
 His country's thoughts were other now. 
 Himself he needs must relegate 
 
 Unto the rear, and bare his blade 
 
 (67) 
 
NOUS VERRONS. 
 
 To breast the issue that was come 
 
 And he himself had never made. 
 Still on he rode and pistols clicked 
 
 Upon the height impatient still, 
 And daggers gleamed and glowed to think 
 
 They soon would have their own sweet 
 will. 
 Thus down the road of life we move 
 
 And know not what before us lies 
 Until, ere we have dared to dream, 
 
 We face some sudden, sad surprise. 
 For us whose eye is on the height 
 
 And heart is with the rider true, 
 There lurk in ambuscade e'en now 
 
 Old Death and all his mystic crew. 
 We drink the floods of neighb'ring air, 
 
 And catch the bird's song in our ear; 
 We spur our jade and whistle out 
 
 And ever come more near and near; 
 
 (68) 
 
NOUS VERRONS. 
 
 We laueh, as lauo-h we should, and feel 
 
 As one who owns an endless day; 
 We take our golden hours and spill 
 
 Their elad sweet wealth alongr the way. 
 The monster lurks and whets his blade 
 
 And licks his tongue in horrid or-lee. 
 Ah! well, if serious thought were mixed 
 
 With all our merry minstrelsy. 
 For lo! where turns the roadway here 
 
 A hand lies on the bridle now, 
 And Fairfax — stop, stay, is it Death 
 
 That miantles o'er his noble brow? 
 Was that a flieht of whistline balls? 
 
 Is that the orleam of daQ^-o-ers hio^h? 
 A struesfle as of one who knows: 
 
 "I win, I live; I lose, I die?" 
 No. Gentle Lucy lifts her eyes 
 
 And pleads the stranger keep the rights 
 The foot-path that will bring him safe 
 
 Around the dizzy, beetling height. 
 (69) 
 
NOUS VERRONS. 
 
 ' 'Good friend, my father is up there 
 
 And Mr. Lyle and he I love. 
 They wait to slay you, so they say, 
 
 Wait up the road there, just above. 
 And oh! who knows but when they all, 
 
 The many others, leap and strike, 
 My father's or my lover's form 
 
 May lie upon the rocky pike ? 
 In here and quickly 'round them ride, 
 
 For my sake, please, sir, wont you now ? 
 That's right. God bless you. You are 
 kind; 
 
 Some day I'll pay you, friend, some 
 how." 
 Fairfax had read within her face 
 
 The truth, as in the light of day, 
 "Guerillas whom her childish fear 
 
 Has robbed," he thouo-ht, "now of their 
 prey." 
 
 (70) 
 
NOUS VERRONS. 
 
 And in he rode as one who knows 
 
 The bravest are least quick to dare, 
 Unless stern Duty, glory-crowned, 
 
 Stands pointing while she whispers 
 ''There!' 
 And Luce dashed from the roadway down 
 
 And quick stole still through bending 
 trees, 
 And coming to her little room, 
 
 Fell there upon her maiden knees. 
 And prayed her God to save that one 
 
 Whose heart was plighted to her own, 
 And bring him back to dwell with her. 
 
 And be for her and her alone. 
 Oh! tender, pretty maiden thoughts! 
 
 Oh! first love, how the after years 
 Will mock you with their hollow laugh; 
 
 In secret bless you 'mid their tears; 
 
 Stretch out their arms and cry In pain. 
 
 '*Oh! for the blessed days I knew, 
 (71) 
 
NOUS VERRONS. 
 
 Oh! for the sun-Hght that then clad 
 The whole world in its golden hue. 
 
 (72) 
 
IN HIS VINEYARD. 
 
 GLEN MARY. 
 
 LONG the vale Jean passed 
 and bore 
 Her blessings to unnumbered 
 poor, 
 Or scaled the rugged heights 
 and stood 
 A welcome guest before the door. 
 The landscape laughing in its glee, 
 
 The sono- of bird on soarine wino-, 
 The leaflets on the bending tree. 
 
 The waters gurgling from the spring, 
 The varied hues of morn and eve. 
 
 That clothed the east or w^estern sky, 
 
IN HIS VINEYARD. 
 
 The rainbow resting on the peaks, 
 
 The sunlit shower passing by, 
 The grasses ranging o'er the fields 
 
 And vieing with the oats and wheat. 
 The hedge-rows hugging close the road, 
 
 The sylvan wild-flowers at her feet, 
 The loving faith her young deer showed 
 
 When in her lap its soft head lay; — 
 All these were chapters in a book 
 
 That made her better every day. 
 Through Nature up to Nature's God 
 
 Her soul now leaped with subtle song; 
 The Hand that made us is all right, 
 
 It's we, good friends, who are all wron; 
 And from the cross the message comes: 
 
 "I am the way, I am the light: 
 Peace and good-will upon the earth, 
 
 And day will dawn upon the night, 
 And woe that lurks from sun to sun 
 
 And nestles in the human breast, 
 
 (74) 
 
IN HIS VINEYARD. 
 
 Will yield to peace — sweet peace that gives 
 
 To His beloved endless rest. 
 Not as the world knows is that peace 
 
 That broods in gentle calm above 
 The heart that God has touched and filled 
 
 With his serener, better love. 
 No gnawing tooth of bitter greed, 
 
 No memory of a plotted wrong, 
 Cuts endless in its inner core 
 
 Or stills the voice of happy song; 
 But, if the world's low treasures fly, 
 
 The days serenely move them still, 
 For all things work for good to those 
 
 Who know and do God's lovine will, 
 And seek to scatter little bits 
 
 Of secret goodness 'long their way 
 And lead the waning night of Greed 
 
 Into Love's broader, sweeter day. 
 
 For newer, fuller light upon 
 
 The problems of our daily need, 
 (75) 
 
IN HIS VINEYARD. 
 
 This is the statesman's higher work, 
 
 This is the churchman's better creed. 
 A^ot gleaming treasures garnered 2ip 
 
 By wrecking of a Jiuman S02d 
 Is wealtJi, bitt zvealth is makins: o^ood 
 
 And glad tJie circle y oil control. 
 The rock that lies to spHnter wide 
 
 Your neighbor's child's fair tiny ship, 
 With higher strength remove and give 
 
 The little tar a safer trip; 
 And, when the tropic seas are his. 
 
 Let him in fair return make sure 
 He lade his ship in part for you, 
 
 And bless you with his precious store. 
 Thus age for youth makes life more sweet, 
 
 And youth holds up the aged hand. 
 And each shall turn his happy feet 
 
 Unto the sweeter, better land." 
 So Jean now thought and every where 
 
 Her smiline face and gentle love 
 
 (76) 
 
IN HIS VINEYARD. 
 
 And tender hand and timely gift 
 
 Her needing fellows bent above. 
 She gave to one a kindly word, 
 
 Another labor for the day, 
 Another meat, and then she'd bend 
 
 Here with another — bend and pray. 
 A pretty book the young child got ; 
 
 A new frock for the growing maid; 
 A weary mother had a "help;" 
 
 The farm-hand's doctor's bill was paid. 
 But ever yonder was a thought 
 
 With one on the embattled plain. 
 She prayed her God that He might send 
 
 Peace to her countrymen again. 
 
 (77) 
 
TO EACH HIS WAY. 
 
 EYOND the mountains far 
 away 
 The captains of unnumbered 
 hosts 
 J^=^^, Were busy at their routine 
 :^^ work; 
 
 The soldiers — each — were at 
 their posts. 
 In every heart there lay the thought 
 
 For country it Is sweet to die, — 
 This cheered the lonely sentry's step 
 And brightened every leader's eye. 
 One heart was touched with purpose grand; 
 One mind was bent to weave a plan 
 
 (79) 
 
TO EACH HIS WAY. 
 
 Would win the day and gain them peace, 
 
 Nor cost them yet another man. 
 That soul was Fairfax and he knew 
 
 Each by-path of the country 'round. 
 He ran his thouehts in circuit out 
 
 And chose for him his battle-Qfround. 
 Slow days moved on by slower nights; 
 
 His foemen grew impatient now. 
 They fancied cowards in their front, 
 
 And offered to the gods a vow 
 To lash them with the willow's twigs 
 
 And pull their noses in their face, 
 "Since they had dipped their manhood in 
 
 The cess-pools of a black disgrace; 
 But Fairfax let them fret and fume, 
 
 With brow serene and heart that knew 
 The Future yet would parcel out 
 
 The blatant soldier from the true. 
 The night came down the mountain heights 
 
 And rested on the restless foe, 
 
 (80) 
 
TO EACH HIS WAY. 
 
 Whose careless eye had ceased to guard 
 
 As once it oruarded lone aeo. 
 
 When morning dawns, a flag slow moves 
 
 Along the vale; the couriers stay 
 
 Just where the lazy general still 
 
 Now wrapped in slumber snugly lay; 
 
 ''Your further fight is useless now," 
 
 Thus spoke the spokesman in his ear, 
 
 "Your past is glorious, but your doom 
 
 Is sealed. I beg you listen, sir." 
 
 He showed him then the workings of 
 
 The master-mind that planned the whole. 
 
 And further that the power once his 
 
 Had now passed on from his control. 
 
 To lengthen now the fight was just 
 
 A waste of human lives, and so 
 
 T were best to yield his sword and own 
 
 The war was done, and turn and o-q 
 
 Once more to happy homes where wives 
 
 And children with their lovine arms 
 (8i) 
 
TO EACH HIS WAY. 
 
 Would welcome now their safe return 
 
 From cruel war and war's alarms. 
 So ran the compact and, forsooth, 
 
 The gladdened victors tried to see 
 How they could heal the wounded pride 
 
 Wrought by their royal victory. 
 The vanquished smiled and proffered hands, 
 
 All save one sullen chieftain who 
 With his sworn comrades picked his chance 
 
 And from the mingling hosts withdrew. 
 As some fierce bird of prey which slips 
 
 The snare that held a moment fast, 
 From crae to crae his fliofht he takes 
 
 o o o 
 
 As crag with crag is swiftly passed, 
 And yonder where his aerie is 
 
 He rests a moment from his flight, 
 Then swoops to fright the heart of day 
 
 And batten on his spoil at night; 
 So Lyle now climbed the slumb'rous heights 
 
 And sought secure a hiding place. 
 
TO EACH HIS WAY. 
 
 Still vowing vengeance in his heart 
 And wearing battle in his face. 
 
 {^z) 
 
^'^^^ crr^S^y!0^1' V 
 
 SIMPLICITY. 
 
 f\ SOFT wind played adown the vale 
 / And toyed with the clover bloom, 
 
 Peered in amid the tanofled orass, 
 
 And whispered o'er the tawny broom,. 
 Caught in its arms the humming bee, 
 
 And put to flight the butterfly, 
 And kissed the tulip's pretty lips 
 
 And jonquils as it passed them by. 
 
 It wreathed its young hands in the scent 
 
 Of honeysuckles hanging near, 
 (85) 
 
SIMPLICITY. 
 
 And touched the touch-me-not and said: 
 
 "Now, jump, you pretty little dear." 
 It clambered up the hugh grape-vine, 
 
 And shook the bio- leaves in ereat elee, 
 And whispered to a lady-bug, 
 
 "Are you here? I have got you. See." 
 Then o-lanced below and caught a sio-ht 
 
 Of Luce close by the cottage now. 
 And jumped and put a pretty kiss 
 
 Right on her pretty little brow. 
 Then oped its eyes. Lo and behold! 
 
 Luce stroked her kitten on her knee. 
 And this was what the breeze then heard 
 
 And wondered what it all could be. 
 
 (86) 
 
SIMPLICITY 
 
 ''If you loved a little Kitzie 
 
 And he was afar away, 
 Would you be so happy, Kitzie, 
 Happy as you are to-day ? 
 Kitzie-cat, 
 Tell me that. 
 
 If you loved a little Kitzie, 
 
 And a cruel huntsman came 
 With his gun to shoot him, Kitzie, 
 Would you love him just the same? 
 Kitzie-cat, 
 Tell me that. 
 
 If you loved a little Kitzie, 
 
 Would you weep and wish him here. 
 Would you write a letter, Kitzie, 
 
 Would you call him home, my dear? 
 Kitzie-cat, 
 Tell me that." 
 
 (87) 
 
SIMPLICITY. 
 
 Then a tear broke from her eye-Hd 
 
 And ran coursing down her cheek, 
 And her little lips now quivered 
 
 And they could no longer speak. 
 Then the thouofhtless little breeze 
 
 That had laughed through all the day. 
 Bent and with a tender prayer 
 
 Kissed the little tear away — 
 Put its arms about her form, — 
 
 Laid her on its smitten breast. 
 Lulled her wearied little heart 
 
 With its sweetness into rest. 
 Slowly stirred her from her thoughts, 
 
 Taueht her labor eives relief 
 When the pent and weary heart 
 
 Bends beneath its heavy grief. 
 And she rose and went her way 
 
 Where the held-road ran alone ; 
 As she passed the apple-tree 
 
 Hummed herself a little song: 
 
 (88) 
 
SIMPLICITY. 
 
 "Love and trust 
 
 And God will bless you. 
 Wait, my heart. It's bound to be. 
 God is good 
 
 And wont distress you, 
 If you'll wait, my heart, and see; 
 If you'll wait, my heart, and see. 
 
 Once my litde Kitzie lingered 
 
 And I thought ' 'T will surely die. 
 
 And I prayed my God to save her 
 And he saved her by and by. 
 
 Love and trust 
 
 And God will bless you. 
 Wait, my heart. It's bound to be. 
 God is good 
 
 And wont distress you. 
 If you'll wait, my heart, and see; 
 If you'll wait, my heart, and see.'' 
 
 ^Sm 
 
 (89) 
 
'^^z^'^^^^^r^ 
 
 SOLDIER, ON! 
 
 7"HE fame of Fairfax filled the land. 
 
 He stole him for a moment's rest 
 
 To fair *'Glen Mary," where he owned 
 
 The sweet surroundinors suited best. 
 
 JVhe7i zuoes have o-athcred thick and fast 
 
 And dark skies bend our path above, 
 (91) 
 
SOLDIER, ON! 
 
 What place so szueetf IVJiat heart so trice, 
 
 As is the home, the heart we love? 
 WJieii Victory zureaths zuith bays oitr brozus 
 
 And Fame bedecks our path zuith Jlozvers, 
 Our first thozigJit is the Jiome and heart — 
 
 ^TJie home and heart zue knozu is onrs. 
 And thither with a loving tryst 
 
 We make our way unto our own 
 Far from the thoughtless crowd, whose 
 shout 
 
 Attends the victor's path alone, 
 As ready as the surly hound 
 
 To fall upon a fallen prey 
 That its lonof tongue with bitter o^ibes 
 
 Has tried to fell the live-long day. 
 One thought now pursed his master brow — 
 
 The serried band upon the height, 
 Yet bent to break his country's laws 
 
 And eager for the bloody fight. 
 
 (92) 
 
SOLDIER, ON! 
 
 He sought to know the chieftain's heart 
 
 And learn the motive of his hate, 
 And bring him to his country's fold 
 
 Repentant, if repentant late. 
 Jean fathomed all for him and told 
 
 The story of Crede Lyle's sad life. 
 Just as she heard it told by one 
 
 Who was an arch insurorent's wife. 
 Fairfax passed from his day's repose 
 
 And took the reins in hand a^ain, 
 With firm resolve to meet his foe 
 
 And close at once his last campaign. 
 Around him lay the camp fires now 
 
 On hill and dale, a pretty sight, 
 And in his tent he sat with brow 
 
 O'er shadowed by the coming night. 
 To win and wound not was the thought 
 
 That to his heart was still most dear, 
 AVhen through the gloaming stole a son: 
 
 And fell upon his listening ear. 
 
 (93) 
 
SOLDIER, ON! 
 
 ^olblcr, ®tt I 
 
 Darkness comes without our wishing. 
 
 We must bear as best we may, 
 Knowing that its stars will light us 
 
 To a brighter, better day. 
 
 Cheer thy heart and bid it ''Courage! " 
 Through the gloaming to the dawn. 
 
 Holy angels bend and beckon. 
 
 While they whisper, ''Soldier, On!" 
 
 Hero of our daily being, 
 
 Bearing wounds for Honor's sake. 
 Let thy heart be glad within thee, 
 
 Soon the roseate dawn will break ; — 
 
 Soon the songs of birds will echo 
 In the valleys far and near. 
 
 And the world all robed in splendor 
 Out of darkness will appear. 
 
 He who bears the lonely watchings 
 Of the night of gloom alone, 
 
 Is the first who sees ,the day-king 
 Seated on his golden throne. 
 
 (94) 
 
SOLDIER, ON! 
 
 Cheer thy heart and bid it, "Courage! ^ 
 Through the gloaming to the dawn. 
 
 Holy angels bend and beckon, 
 
 While they whisper, "Soldier, On!" 
 
 (95) 
 
CORDELE. 
 
 EX TENEBRIS IN LUC EM. 
 
 ^HE busy wheels of Traffic 
 roar 
 And clatter on the llst'nino- 
 ear; 
 
 The columns of black smoke ascend 
 
 Yet up and up and disappear. 
 The teeming crowds are jogging, each 
 
 In wild pursuit of hoarded pelf; 
 And all seem bent alone upon 
 
 "The bread and cheese upon the shelf." 
 One lifts his mansion costly grand 
 
 With millions in his coffers by, 
 
 (97) 
 
CORDELE. 
 
 Yet rushes as impelled by fate 
 
 To make yet more before he die; 
 Another sees and knows the thirst 
 
 For wealth can never eet its fill, 
 But follows swift upon its track 
 
 And swifter and yet swifter still. 
 As in some whirlpool swimmers strive 
 
 To stem the billows and to rise 
 Each o'er his fellow to a height 
 
 Will face the frontlet of the skies, 
 And fear to leave the stroke unmade 
 
 Lest haply they may sink to doom 
 And flounder as a soggy log 
 
 Ignobly to a watery tomb; 
 So here within this bustling mart, 
 
 Each on this thronged and narrow street 
 , Now toils, yet finds no stay nor rest. 
 
 No place for tired brain and feet. 
 Each day he speeds as though the life 
 
 Of millions hung upon his speed; 
 
 (98) 
 
CORDELE. 
 
 He gets and gets and gets and gets 
 
 And finds he Is still more in need. 
 When night comes on and morning stars 
 
 Rise sweet within the eastern skies, 
 He goes to bed but downy sleep 
 
 Is still a stranger to his eyes. 
 In visions of his fevered thouo^ht 
 
 The orame runs on, "I win, I lose/' 
 He is the victim of the fate 
 
 The thoughtless thousands rashly 
 choose; 
 For in his house this day and hour 
 
 The child whose all, his all's to be, 
 Sobs with a heart that moans to know 
 
 Wealth is not loving sympathy. 
 For through the past years sown full 
 thick 
 
 Are hours she needed his heart's beat 
 
 To soothe and soften and his hand 
 
 To lead her wicked little feet. 
 (99) 
 
CORDELE, 
 
 If haply wilful she essayed 
 
 His will to thwart, he shook his hst 
 And swore an oath. She passed from 
 sight 
 
 And went where her rash heart might 
 list, 
 And did whate'er her angered pride 
 
 And spiteful turn might deem her will. 
 Her busy father thought to soothe, 
 
 If he would only foot each bill. 
 And so she ran the round of all 
 
 An aimless life of pleasure hath. 
 And doubling on her track she came 
 
 All weary down the olden path. 
 And sighed for rest and sighed for peace 
 
 And raised to God her feeble prayer. 
 That some eood hand would lead her 
 heart 
 
 From out these realms of dark 
 despair — 
 
 (lOO) 
 
CORDELE. 
 
 These shades where strove in useless strife 
 
 The poverty-stricken rich who need 
 For ill-fed minds and Jinngry sonls 
 
 The hale food of the Christian creed. 
 She fell on sleep and dreams there came 
 
 Of rescue and of peace at last, — 
 Of tender words and orentle arms 
 
 Around her shrinking fiorure cast. 
 She woke to find her throbbine brow 
 
 On Jean's good heart. She raised her 
 eyes; 
 "Where did you come from? Surely,. 
 God 
 
 In love has sent you from the skies. 
 Oh! Jean, this wayward world does wrong 
 
 To think its heart can e'er find rest 
 Save in His arms, save in His love. 
 
 Save on His sympathetic breast. 
 I've run the round. I know it all. 
 
 It's hollow mockery they call fun. 
 
 (lOl) 
 
CORDELE. 
 
 There is no joy like that they know 
 
 Who say, 'O God, thy will be done.' 
 Good friend, I love to hear your heart 
 
 Sing its sweet music in my ear. 
 Methinks my weary soul would like 
 
 To breathe its worthless self out here. 
 You know 'way down the by-gone days, 
 
 I half-way dreamed of love and truth 
 And all those pretty things you've known. 
 
 And decked your life with from your 
 youth. 
 But oh! the chilline air of ereed, 
 
 Th' insatiate maelstrom, more and more 
 Swept my frail bark upon the seas 
 
 Far from that balmy blessed shore. 
 And I have lived — God pity me — 
 
 God pity me and send me rest. 
 Jean, hold me closer, wont you, dear? 
 
 Still closer to your loving breast. 
 
 (I02) 
 
CORDELE. 
 
 Oh! could I die just here and now, 
 
 I think I surely would be blest. 
 Jean, hold me closer, wont you, dear? 
 
 Still closer to your loving breast. 
 Oh! This is o-ood. The storm-tossed bird 
 
 Is once aofain within its nest. 
 Jean, hold me closer, wont you, dear? 
 
 Still closer to your loving breast." 
 
 {103) 
 
THE COMBAT. 
 
 HERE beetling 
 
 arise, 
 
 A bitter heart now 
 
 lonQTs for fiofht. 
 
 His 'leaguered hosts with restless, step 
 
 Speed loit'ring day, curse coming night. 
 
 With heartless taunt they cry to know 
 
 Why those whose bulwarks rise on high 
 
 Meet not on mid-way ground and fight 
 
 Like men and win the day or die. 
 
 The patient Fairfax heard it all 
 
 And ran the problem through his mind, 
 (105) 
 
THE COMBAT. 
 
 *'This is a private grievance and 
 
 A private settlement should find. 
 Why need the hundreds who are here 
 
 Spill their life-blood — a useless fate? 
 He does my country public wrong, 
 
 Because he bears me private hate. 
 I'll meet him and let God and skill 
 
 Decide at once what they deem best." 
 Then peaceful as a pretty babe, 
 
 The euileless chieftain seeks his rest. 
 When mornino- came, a flae ascends 
 
 The topmost peak — a parley pleads — 
 Crede Lyle consents on testy ground 
 
 That Fairfax quickly state his needs. 
 Mid-way the hosts, the stainless knight 
 
 Asks that his foe give reason why 
 As man with man they can not bring 
 
 Their quarrel to an end. The eye 
 Of Lyle flashed fire and his teeth 
 
 Shone as a tiofer's keen and white. 
 
 (io6) 
 
THE COMBAT. 
 
 ''There is but one thing, sir, to do — 
 
 And that thine is to draw and fior-ht." 
 * 'Agreed, " said Fairfax, ''if you'll make 
 
 This compact: All on either side 
 Must swear they will abstain from fight 
 
 And by the issue then abide. 
 And, if I fall or if I win, 
 
 One thing alone of yours and you: 
 To yonder flag henceforth and now 
 
 You swear forever to be true." 
 This then they swore and heralds made 
 
 The wide announcement to the ranks. 
 On either side the cheers went up 
 
 Like waters roaring over banks. 
 The seconds then prepared the swords 
 
 And tested them of steel approved. 
 Then to and fro like ushers now 
 
 Upon a gala-day they moved. 
 Had then a traveller happened by 
 
 And seen affairs just as they stood — 
 
 (107) 
 
THE COMBAT. 
 
 He'd thought two friendly parties here, 
 
 On hunt intent, met in the wood, 
 Nor known that sword with sword would 
 cross, 
 
 And on it all depend the woe 
 Or weal of those who'd met in fio-ht 
 
 One for his land, one 'o-ainst his foe. 
 But so it was; Fairfax's heart 
 
 Was lifted to his God in prayer 
 For all the hosts that circled round 
 
 And all their loved ones every where; 
 Nor did he fail to ask that He 
 
 Would shield his Jean from every harm. 
 And, knowing then his Duty called. 
 
 He found him with a steady arm. 
 For prayer puts courage in the heart 
 
 And steadies every patriot's hand 
 To strike for home and all that's dear — 
 
 The God w^e love and native land. 
 
 (loS) 
 
THE COMBAT, 
 
 Then quiet as a friend would go 
 
 To meet a friend, peace on his face, 
 He moves to meet the Lyle half-way 
 
 And shake his hand with knightly grace. 
 Swords then were crossed. The given 
 word 
 
 Was scarcely from the giver's lips, 
 Lyle lunges with an angry stroke — 
 
 Is parried — tries again and slips — 
 His foeman kindly stops and waits; 
 
 Recovered now he comes aeain; 
 Swords flash; he strikes an under-stroke, 
 
 But strikes his under-stroke in vain. 
 The skilled eye of the Fairfax then 
 
 Perceived the demon in the play, 
 But wished his foe should see that he 
 
 Was ready for him any way. 
 As storms impetuous break and roar 
 
 Upon some rugged, rock-ribbed hill 
 
 (109) 
 
THE COMBAT. 
 
 And fret and fume, because, forsooth, 
 
 They can not have their testy will; 
 So Lyle now rushed and angry swore 
 
 As stroke met with a fellow stroke, 
 And circline thousands into cheers — 
 
 As warring clouds peal — sudden broke. 
 As those spent storms fall into calm 
 
 And settle to their deep repose, 
 So Lyle now sinks him to the ground 
 
 Beneath the bravest of brave foes. 
 And mountains unto mountains speak 
 
 As Fairfax' foot rests on his breast. 
 When sudden calm broods over all, 
 
 His, fallen foe he thus addressed: 
 "Your life is mine. I grant it now 
 
 On one condition. That shall be: 
 Friendship forever shall abide 
 
 Between my fallen foe and me." 
 Lyle looked and saw upon his face 
 
 A glory from the better land. 
 
 (no) 
 
THE COMBAT. 
 
 'I'm yours henceforth," he said. "I pledge 
 The fealty of myself and band." 
 
 (Ill) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 T^HE Christmas comes to 
 oflad the vale, 
 New wakened from the 
 sleep of years, 
 And pouring forth its latent 
 wealth . 
 For him whom every heart reveres. 
 That mind that held the reins of war 
 
 And kept the demon in its clasp, 
 Still reachinor forth with newer stroke 
 And wider sweeps of mental grasp, 
 Had bid the mountains brine their store 
 
 And render homage unto men, 
 
 (113) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 And Spread their laps to house and hold 
 
 The teemingf hundreds from the oflen. 
 New conquests followed swift his feet; 
 
 With steam he stormed the very height, 
 And far and wide the landscape laughed 
 
 Beneath his eye's benignant light. 
 On tree and bush, and grass and rock, 
 
 Close hugging now the prattling creek; 
 On hill and dale and upland slope 
 
 And boulder, crag and mountain peak, 
 The snow lies spread all soft and wdiite 
 
 A virgin garb for that sweet day 
 When all the world with tender love 
 
 Should meet and lift their hearts and 
 pray. 
 The busy song of anvil now 
 
 Is hushed; the panting forge is still; 
 The ore-banks lie in peace; the beasts 
 
 Range 'round the haystacks on the hill. 
 
 (114) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 The happy children run and laugh 
 
 And stir the old folks with their o-lee,. 
 Content to have the thino^s that are 
 
 o 
 
 And leave the morrow those to be. 
 The dusk comes o'er the distant heio-hts 
 
 And spreads its wings across the sky. 
 The ereat electric arc-lights eleam 
 
 To guide the foot and glad the eye. 
 The bell tolls from the steeple's throat 
 
 A chime that sweetens all the air 
 And bids the thousands meet and ereet 
 
 The Christmas fete with praise and 
 prayer. 
 As vast white tents for armies spread, 
 
 All snow-decked now the buildings 
 rise, 
 That are to house and warm the crowds 
 
 That throng beneath the wintry skies. 
 As mountain rills from pretty glens 
 
 Stream down and orather into one — 
 
 ("5) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 Which grows in width and depth and 
 streno-th 
 
 As on it goes to meet the sun; 
 So from the bright, sweet homes that lie, 
 
 A fringe of glory round the hills, 
 The multitude now gathers swift — 
 
 Each by the route his good heart w^ills. 
 The o-fand notes of the oro-an float 
 
 o o 
 
 Amid the reaches of the hall, 
 And touch with rich devotion now 
 
 The tender hearts of one and all. 
 The pastors who had led their flocks 
 
 Through seasons as they came and 
 went. 
 Now stand in prayer while heads and 
 hearts 
 
 In reverent love are near them bent. 
 The lifted voice is full of thanks 
 
 For blessings through the past year 
 
 sown, 
 
 (ii6) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 And eager pleadings that the world 
 
 May soon its sovereign Master own, 
 And rich crood will and lovine deed 
 
 Adorn each heart and grace each hand 
 And crown with peace and brotherhood 
 
 The humblest home in every land. 
 This over, lights flash on the trees 
 
 That rise to meet the children's eyes, 
 And 'mid their o-reen leaves weave the 
 shades 
 
 Of all the rainbow's pretty dyes. 
 Gift on rich gift hangs tempting there, 
 
 And little hearts are beatine fast 
 With dj^eams that ai^e too beatctiful, 
 
 Too golden-bright and sweet to last. 
 And here and there the couples walk 
 
 With arm in arm — a happy throng!. 
 While oboe and xylophone 
 
 And sweet-voiced violins vie with 
 
 sone. 
 
 o 
 
 (117) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE, 
 
 And here there moves a stately form 
 
 And with him one of matchless grace, 
 Whose bowine heads acknowledo^e friends 
 
 By scores around with smiling face. 
 And, as they pass, each reverent heart 
 
 Says to itself a little prayer. 
 That God may bless with health and joy 
 
 "Glen Mary's" lord and mistress there. 
 For Fairfax with his charming Jean 
 
 Still loved and kept their trysting place 
 And with their hands and bounty wreathed 
 
 It daily with a newer grace. 
 Till far and wide its good fame went 
 
 As stayer of the needy hand — 
 A royal blessing and a crown 
 
 Of endless glory to the land. 
 They mingle with the crowding hosts 
 
 And for the nonce are lost to sight; 
 The surging streams come passing by 
 
 And parting go to left and right. 
 
 (ii8) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 Now see a man of stalwart mold — 
 
 A eiant oak from forests wide — 
 And with him now a petite form — 
 
 A fairy tripping by his side. 
 Crede Lyle looks down in eyes all blue 
 
 As waters under laughing skies, 
 And Cordele owns her heart at rest 
 
 As arm on arm now gently lies. 
 Two stranee lives welded into one, 
 
 By God's grace sweetened and made 
 true 
 To all that's good. The better now 
 
 For what the Past has brought them 
 through — 
 A sturdy tree now settled square 
 
 And ready for a noble growth — 
 A pretty vine once storm-tossed, now 
 
 In leaf and fruitage putting forth. 
 
 A sweet lauorh as a child were here 
 
 And glad to see some pretty toy, 
 ("9) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 Presents us with our cottage maid — 
 
 "Luce" and her noble soldier boy. 
 They walk and talk and halt to speak 
 
 With some good friend who's passing by, 
 And tell of how their little home 
 
 Rounds up and out beneath the sky. 
 And then she sees a little babe 
 
 And runs to kiss it. "Oh! how sweet, 
 Just see its chubby hands, its eyes, 
 
 And oh! these precious little feet." 
 The crowds press in, we lose from sight 
 
 Our little Lucy and we hear 
 The song of children as they march — 
 
 A merry phalanx singing clear. 
 The hour is on for festal glee — 
 
 And line on line in circles whirls, — 
 Each father hails his handsome boy, 
 
 Each mother eyes her pretty girls. 
 The red and blue and white and green 
 
 And orange and the lilac glow; 
 
 (I20) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 The pink and black and ecru come, 
 
 The gray and mauve and scarlet go. 
 The streaming ribbons dance and play 
 
 Like leaves before a whirline blast, 
 And eyes flash back in winsome zuay 
 
 The pretty olances at them cast. 
 The music fills and thrills the whole, 
 
 And 'mid its lower keys are heard 
 The bits of laughter break and stir, 
 
 Like notes of some sweet wild-wood 
 bird. 
 The old folks in the neiorhb'rino- booths 
 
 Look out upon the changing scene. 
 And Reminiscence wakes anew 
 
 The happy days that once have been. 
 Meanwhile their appetites grow keen 
 
 At savor of the unctious meal. 
 Whose presence, reeking-sweet and 
 glad. 
 
 The lifted curtains now reveal. 
 
 (121) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 The pig, well-roasted, sleek and fat, 
 
 With apple in his jolly jaws, 
 And parsley spread — a profuse garb — 
 
 About him, like a magnet, draws. 
 Scarce less a monarch of the hour 
 
 Yon elorious gobbler rears his breast, 
 
 o o 
 
 And to the hungry, waiting soul 
 
 Forebodes a longing soon at rest. 
 The smaller orame — 't were useless now 
 
 To mention — chickens, ducks and geese, 
 Deer, rabbits, quail, some pheasants, here 
 
 Opossums lolling in their grease. 
 The oyster from his native bed 
 
 Disturbed, a traveller in these parts, 
 Has come to lend variety 
 
 And gladden many happy hearts. 
 The dishes of an endless make 
 
 Here steam with fruit of every kind 
 And all the garden and the field 
 
 Supply to give us peace of mind, 
 
 (122) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 And loaves all fleecy and as sweet 
 
 As ever tempted human thought 
 Are ranged at intervals, into 
 
 The rarest shapes and sizes wrought. 
 All things that go to make hearts glad 
 
 And still the craving appetite 
 Were gathered on the groaning boards 
 
 To crown this orlorious Christmas nieht. 
 The wine-cup and the whisky-glass — 
 
 Fell wreckers of the human race — 
 Found here, where Christian hearts were 
 met, 
 
 There was for them no fitting place; 
 But men had manlier ways to glad 
 
 The present than to soak their brains 
 With fluids that have swept the world 
 
 As great tornadoes sweep the plains. 
 The aged now first lead the way. 
 
 Their gray locks crowning honored 
 
 brows, 
 
 (123) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 And reverent bend their heads and say 
 
 The grace a good heart ever vows. 
 In turn each joins the feasting groups 
 
 Assembled at the tables wide, 
 And Converse lends her pretty charm 
 
 To usher out the Christmas tide. 
 Sweet stories of the olden times 
 
 Float from the lips of other days, 
 And woo the younger folks to vie 
 
 In rich regard and fitting praise; 
 Or else a maiden's coyness here 
 
 Has tempted some o'er ardent swain, 
 Secluded and alone, to press 
 
 The suit he's pressed before in vain; 
 Or pretty mother strokes the hair 
 
 From off her dimpled darling's face. 
 And glories in its laughing eye, 
 
 Its boundine health and winsome orace. 
 
 The feast now done, the hour is come 
 
 To gather 'neath the Christmas trees 
 (124) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 And portion to the happy throng 
 
 The gifts as Santa Claus decrees. 
 The young hearts glow and all their soul 
 
 Expectant sits within their eyes, 
 Awaiting now to welcome soon 
 
 The rich gifts with glad, little cries. 
 The busy ushers come and go 
 
 And gladden one by one the w^hole. 
 Till all the trees have rendered up 
 
 Their fruit to ladder and to pole. 
 Then sounds the proclamation far 
 
 For peace and order once again. 
 The surging crowds obey and rest 
 
 As billows calmed upon the main. 
 From where the dais sinks from sight 
 
 Behind the curtains in the rear, 
 The stately form and loving face 
 
 Of My Lord Fairfax now appear. 
 He waves his hand, the crowds, now still, 
 
 All bend to catch his every word. 
 
 (125) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 His voice, sweet toned and clear ran out 
 
 So that each list'ning burgher heard: 
 "Friends," so he speaks, "within your 
 thought 
 
 There Hes the memory of a vow, 
 That once you made on upland crag- 
 
 And lowland lea; where is it now? 
 Here by my side your leader stands, 
 
 A brother to my heart and soul 
 And partner full; o'er you he wields 
 
 With me an even half-control. 
 Led on by wooings of that love 
 
 That streams from God to sweeten 
 life 
 And still all cause for hate and o-loom 
 
 Or further internecine strife, 
 We come to-nieht to bless ourselves 
 
 In blessing you. For we believe 
 That surplus wealth is but a trust 
 
 Bestowed of God that we may give 
 
 (126) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 His bounty back to those whose sweat 
 
 Has won it from the grasp of earth, 
 And pass to God with hands as clean 
 
 As when we came from Him at birth. 
 Who lives alone for hoarded pelf 
 
 Is Init a hicnger-smitten beast, 
 Whose gnawing vitals famish 'mid 
 
 The glozuing plenty of the feast. 
 He misses all the subtle, sweet 
 
 And radiant joy of those who live 
 And follow Him who taught, 'It is 
 
 More blest to eive than to receive.' 
 So all these acres spreading wide, 
 
 These mines that teem v/ith hidden 
 worth. 
 These foro-es threat'nino- to the skies, 
 
 o o 
 
 These buildings huCTorino- close the 
 earth. 
 Henceforth, in part are yours as ours; 
 
 His share awaits each freeman here; 
 
 (127) 
 
THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 
 
 For him who saves, henceforth, my friends, 
 
 The way to plenty now is clear. 
 Our aim is for our mutual good, 
 Yourselves and us alike to lift. 
 (My noble wife unites her voice) 
 
 Receive, my friends, your Christmas 
 ^ift." 
 The welkin rang" and glad hearts wept, 
 
 The preacher rose and raised the song, 
 ' 'Praise God from whom all blessino-s 
 flow, " 
 And with a prayer dismissed the 
 throno^. 
 
 o 
 
 (12? 
 

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