THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 P A U L I N E 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 HANFORD LENNOX GORDON 
 
 NEW YORK 
 G. P. PUTNAM' S SONS 
 
 182 Fifth A venue 
 1878
 
 COPYRIGHT EY G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, 1878.
 
 TO 
 
 THE MEMORY OF 
 MY DEVOTED WIFE, 
 
 DEAD AND GONE 
 
 YET ALWAYS WITH ME, 
 
 I DEDICATE 
 
 PAULINE, 
 
 THE FLOWER OF MY HEART, 
 
 NURSED INTO BLOOM BY HER LOVING CARE 
 
 AND OFTEN WATERED WITH HER TEARS. 
 
 H. L. G. 
 
 764004
 
 CO NTENTS 
 
 PAULINE, TART I 
 
 " PART II . . . . '.63 
 
 THE PIONEER 122 
 
 MAULEY 132 
 
 MY HEART'S ON THE RHINE . . . .135 
 
 OUT OF THE DEPTHS 137 
 
 ISABEL . . . . . . .139
 
 PAULINE. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 FAIR morning sat upon the mountain-top, 
 And o'er the silent city softly stole 
 The sheen and shimmer of her golden robes. 
 Night skulking crept into the mountain-chasm. 
 The silent ships slept in the silent bay ; 
 One broad blue bent of ether domed the heavens, 
 One broad blue distance lay the shadowy land, 
 One broad blue vast of silence slept the sea. 
 Now from the dewy groves the joyful birds 
 In carol-concert sang their matin songs 
 Softly and sweetly full of prayer and praise. 
 Then silver-chiming, solemn-voiced bells 
 Rung out their music on the morning air,
 
 8 PA ULINE. 
 
 And Lisbon gathered to the festival 
 
 In chapel and cathedral. Choral hymns 
 
 And psalms of sea-toned organs mingling rose 
 
 With sweetest incense floating up to Heaven, 
 
 Bearing the praises of the multitudes, 
 
 And all was holy peace and holy happiness. 
 
 A rumbling of deep thunders in the deep ; 
 The vast sea shuddered and the mountains groaned ; 
 Then heaved the solid earth, the nether rocks 
 Burst and the sea the earth the echoing heavens 
 Thundered infernal ruin. On their knees 
 The trembling multitudes received the shock, 
 And dumb with sudden terror bowed their heads 
 To toppling spire and plunging wall and dome. 
 
 So shook the mighty North the sudden roar 
 Of Treason thundering on the April air, 
 An earthquake shock that jarred the granite hills 
 And westward rolled against th' eternal walls 
 Rock-built by Titans, for a moment shook : 
 Uprose a giant and with iron hands
 
 PA ULINE. 9 
 
 Caught his huge hammer, claspt his belt of steel, 
 And o'er the Midgard-monster mighty Thor 
 Loomed for the combat. 
 
 Peace, O blessed Peace ! 
 
 The war-worn veterans hailed thee with a shout 
 Of Alleluias ; homeward wound the trains, 
 And homeward marched the bayonet-bristling 
 
 columns 
 
 To ' Hail Columbia* from a thousand horns ; 
 Marched to the jubilee of chiming bells, 
 Marched to the joyful peals of cannon, marched, 
 With blazing banners and victorious songs, 
 Into the outstretched arms of love and home. 
 
 But there be columns columns of the dead 
 
 That slumber on an hundred battle-fields 
 
 No bugle-blast shall waken till the trump 
 
 Of the Archangel. O the loved and lost ! 
 
 For them no jubilee of chiming bells ; 
 
 For them no cannon-peal of victory ; 
 
 For them no outstretched arms of love and home.
 
 10 PA ULINE. 
 
 God's peace be with them. Heroes who went down 
 Wearing their stars, live in the nation's songs 
 And stories, there be greater heroes still, 
 That moulder in unnumbered nameless graves, 
 Erst bleached unburied on the fields of fame 
 Won by their valor. Who will sing of these 
 Sing of the patriot-deeds on flood and field 
 Of these the truer heroes all unsung? 
 O where the modest muse in Quaker gray 
 Who blew the pibroch ere the battb lowered, 
 Then pitched her tent upon the balmy beach ? 
 " Snow-bound," I ween, among her native hills. 
 And where the master hand that swept the lyre 
 Till wrinkled critics cried " Excelsior"? 
 Gathering the " Aftermath " in frosted fields. 
 Then, timid Muse, no longer shake thy wings . 
 For airy realms and fold again in fear; 
 A broken flight is better than no flight, 
 A timid voice is better than no voice. 
 Be thine the task as best you may, to sing 
 The deeds of one who sleeps at Gettysburg 
 Among the thousands in a common grave. 
 The story of his life I bid you tell
 
 PA ULINE. 1 1 
 
 As it was told one windy winter night 
 
 To veterans gathered around the festal board, 
 
 Fighting old battles over where the field 
 
 Ran red with wine, and all the battle-blare 
 
 Was merry laughter and the merry songs, 
 
 Told when the songs were sung by him who heard 
 
 The pith of it from the dying soldier's lips 
 
 His Captain, tell it as the Captain told. 
 
 THE CAPTAINS STORY. 
 
 Come, comrades, let us fight one battle more ; 
 Let the cock crow, we'll guard the camp to-night. 
 And since the singers and the merry ones 
 Are Jwrs du combat fill the cups again 
 With ruddy wine, r.nd listen to a tale 
 Romantic, but the warp thereof is truth. 
 When the old Flag o'er Sumter's" sea-girt walls 
 From its proud perch a fluttering ruin fell, 
 I swore an oath as big as Bunker Hill ; 
 For I was younger then, nor battle-scarred, 
 And full of patriot-faith and martial fire.
 
 12 PAULINE. 
 
 I raised a company of riflemen, 
 
 Marched to the front, and proud of my command, 
 
 Nor seeking higher, led them till the day 
 
 Of triumph and the nation's jubilee. 
 
 Among the first that answered to my call, 
 
 Came the hero of the story you shall hear. 
 
 'Tis better I describe him. He was young 
 
 Near two and twenty, neither short nor tall, 
 
 A slender student, and his tapering hands 
 
 Had better graced a maiden than a man : 
 
 Sad, thoughtful face, a wealth of raven hair 
 
 Brushed back in waves from forehead prominent; 
 
 A classic nose half Roman and half Greek ; 
 
 Dark, lustrous eyes beneath a jutting brow, 
 
 Wearing a shade of sorrow, yet so keen, 
 
 And in the storm of battle flashing fire. 
 
 ' Well, boy,' I said, ' I doubt if you will do ; 
 I need stout men for picket-line and march 
 Men that have bone and muscle men inured 
 To toil and hardships, men, in short, my boy, 
 To march and fight, and march and fight again.'
 
 PAULINE. 13 
 
 A queer expression lit his earnest face 
 Half frown half smile. 
 
 " Well, try me." That was all 
 He answered, and I put him on the roll 
 Paul Prior Private and he donned the blue. 
 Paul proved himself the best in my command ; 
 I found him first at reveille, and first 
 In all the varied duties of the day. 
 His rough-hewn comrades, bred to bpist'rous ways, 
 Jeered at the slender youth with maiden hands, 
 Nick-named him ' Nel/ and for a month or more 
 Kept up a fusillade of jokes and jeers. 
 Their jokes and jeers he heard but heeded not, 
 Or heeding did a kindly act for him 
 That jeered him loudest, so the hardy men 
 Came to look up to Paul as one above 
 The level of their rough and boist'rous ways. 
 He never joined the jolly soldier-sports, 
 But ever was the first at bugle-call, 
 Mastered the drill and often drilled the men. 
 Fatigued with duty, weary with the marqh
 
 14 PAULINE. 
 
 Under the blaze of the midsummer sun, 
 He murmured not, alike in sun or rain 
 His utmost duty eager to perform, 
 And ever ready, always just the same 
 Patient and earnest sad and silent Paul. 
 
 The day of battle came that Sabbath day, 
 Midsummer. Hot and blistering as the flames 
 Of prairie-fires wind-driven, the burning sun 
 Blazed down upon us, and the blinding dust 
 Wheeled in dense clouds and covered all our ranks, 
 As we marched on to battle. Then the roar 
 Of batteries broke upon us. Glad indeed, 
 That music to my soldiers, and they cheered 
 And cheered again, and boasted all but Paul 
 And shouted ' On to Richmond I ' he alone 
 Was silent, but his eyes were full of fire. 
 
 Then came the order ' Forward, double-quick ! ' 
 And we rushed into battle, formed our Line 
 Facing the toe the ambushed, deadly foe, 
 Hid in the thicket, with the Union flag
 
 PAULINE. 15 
 
 A cheat hung out before it luring us 
 Into a blazing hell. The battle broke 
 With wildest fury on us, crashed and pealed 
 The rolling thunder of continuous fire. 
 We broke and rallied, charged and broke again, 
 And rallied still, broke counter charge and charged 
 Loud-yelling, furious, on the hidden foe ; 
 Met thrice our numbers and came flying back 
 Disordered and disheartened. Yet again 
 I strove to rally my discouraged men, 
 But hell was fairly howling ; only Paul 
 Eager but bleeding from a bullet-wound 
 In the left arm came bounding to my side. 
 But at that moment I was struck and fell- 
 Fell prostrate ; then a sickly sense of death 
 Came o'er me, and I saw and heard no more 
 Of battle on that Sabbath. 
 
 I awoke 
 
 Confined and jolted in an ambulance 
 Piled with the wounded, driven recklessly 
 By one who chiefly cared to save himself.
 
 1 6 PAULINE. 
 
 I raised myself as best I could ; my wound 
 Was not as dangerous as it might have been 
 A scalp wound o'er the temple ; there you see, 
 He put his finger on the ugly scar, 
 Half an inch deeper, and some soldier-friend, 
 Among the veterans gathered here to-night, 
 Had told a briefer story o'er the wine. 
 In front and rear I saw the fearful rout, 
 A broken army swarming panic-struck ; 
 The proud brigades of undulating steel 
 That marched at sunrise under blazoned flags, 
 Singing the victory ere the cannon roared, 
 And eager for the honors of the day, 
 Like bison Indian-chased on windy plains, 
 Now broken and commingled fled the field. 
 Words of command were only wasted breath ; 
 Colonels and brigadiers, on foot and soiled, 
 Were pushed and jostled by the hurrying hordes. 
 Anon the cry of ' Cavalry ! ' arose, 
 And army teams came dashing down the road 
 And plunged into the panic. All the way 
 Was strown with broken wagons, battery-guns, 
 Tents, muskets, knapsacks and exhausted men.
 
 PAULINE. 17 
 
 My men were mingled with the lawless crowd, 
 
 And in the swarm behind us, there was Paul 
 
 Silent and soldier-like with knapsack on 
 
 And rifle on his shoulder guarding me, 
 
 And marching on behind the ambulance. 
 
 So all that dark and gloomy night we marched, 
 
 Each man a captain captain o'er himself 
 
 Nor cared for orders on that wild retreat 
 
 To safety from disaster. All that night, 
 
 Silent and soldier-like my wounded Paul 
 
 Marched close behind and kept his faithful watch. 
 
 For ever and anon the jaded men, 
 
 Clamorous and threat'ning, sought to clamber in, 
 
 And ride upon our load of misery, 
 
 Whom Paul drove off at point of bayonet, 
 
 Wielding his musket with his good right arm. 
 
 But when the night was waning to the morn 
 
 I saw that he was weary and I made 
 
 A place for Paul and begged him to get in. 
 
 " No, Captain, no," he answered, " I will walk, 
 
 I'm making bone and muscle, learning now 
 
 To march and fight and march and fight again." 
 
 That silenced me, and we went rumbling on, 
 
 Till morning found us safe at Arlington.
 
 1 8 PAULINE. 
 
 A month off duty and a faithful nurse 
 Worked wonders and my head was well again, 
 But to be candid cracked a little yet. 
 My nurse was Paul. Albeit his left arm, 
 Flesh-wounded, pained him sorely for a time, 
 With filial care he dressed my battered head, 
 And wrote for me to anxious friends at home ; 
 But never wrote a letter for himself. 
 Thinking of this one day, I spoke of it ; 
 A cloud came o'er his face. 
 
 " My friends," he said, 
 
 " Are here among my comrades in the camp." 
 That was a mystery and I questioned him, 
 But got no answers or mysterious ones. 
 
 Again we joined our regiment and marched 
 Far o'er the hills and dales of Maryland. 
 On picket-duty at the frequent fords 
 For weary, toilsome months were we employed 
 Along the broad Potomac, while our foes, 
 Eagerly watching for their human game,
 
 PAULINE. 19 
 
 Lurked like Apaches on the wooded shores. 
 
 Bands of enemy's cavalry by night 
 
 Along the line of river prowled and sought 
 
 To dash across and raid in Maryland. 
 
 Two regiments guarded miles of river-bank, 
 
 And drilled alternately ; and one was ours. 
 
 Off picket-duty, alike in fair or foul, 
 
 With knapsacks on and bearing forty rounds, 
 
 From morn till night we drilled, battalion-drill, 
 
 Often at double-quick for weary hours, 
 
 Bearing our burdens in the blazing sun, 
 
 Till strong men staggered from the ranks and fell. 
 
 Aye, many a hardy man in those hard days 
 
 Was drilled and disciplined into his grave. Arose 
 
 Murmurs of discontent, and loud complaints 
 
 Fell on dull ears till patience was worn out, 
 
 And mutiny was hinted. As for Paul 
 
 I never heard a murmur from his lips ; 
 
 Nor did he ask a reason for the things 
 
 Unreasonable and hard required of him, 
 
 But straightway did his duty, just as if 
 
 The nation's fate hung on it. I pitied Paul ; 
 
 Slender in form and delicate, he bore
 
 20 PA ULINE. 
 
 The toils and duties of the hardiest. 
 Ill from exposure, or fatigued and worn, 
 On picket hungered, shivering in the rain, 
 Or sweltering in full dress, with knapsack on, 
 Beneath the blaze of the mid-summer sun, 
 He held his spirit, always still the same 
 Patient and earnest, sad and silent Paul. 
 
 We posted pickets two by two. At night, 
 
 By turns the comrades slept and took the watch. 
 
 Once in September, in a dismal storm, 
 
 Three days and nights with neither tent nor fire, 
 
 Paul and a comrade held a picket-post. 
 
 The equinox raged madly. Chilling winds 
 
 In angry gusts roared from the northern hills, 
 
 Dashing the dismal rain-clouds into showers 
 
 That fell in torrents over all the land. 
 
 In camp the soldiers crouched in dripping tents, 
 
 Or shivered o'er the camp fires. I was ill 
 
 And gladly sought the shelter of a hut. 
 
 Our rules were strict and often hard to bear 
 
 Nor tents nor fire upon the picket-posts,
 
 PA ULINE. 2 1 
 
 Cold rations and a canopy of storms. 
 
 I pitied Paul and would have called him in, 
 
 But that I had no man to take his place ; 
 
 Nor did I know he took upon himself 
 
 A double task. His comrade on the post 
 
 Was ill, and so he made a shelter for him 
 
 With his own blankets and a bed within ; 
 
 And took the watch of both upon himself. 
 
 And on the third night near the dawn of day, 
 
 In rubber cloak stole in upon the post 
 
 A pompous major, on the nightly round, 
 
 Unchallenged. All fatigued and drenched with rain, 
 
 There on his post his rifle in his hand 
 
 Paul leaned against a sheltering elm and slept. 
 
 The haughty major stormed and threatened death ; 
 
 Then pitiless pricked the comrade with his sword, 
 
 And from his shelter drove him to the watch, 
 
 Shivering with fever. There Paul interposed 
 
 And said : 
 
 " I ask no mercy at your hands ; 
 I shall not whimper, but my comrade here
 
 22 PAULINE. 
 
 Is ill of fever ; I have stood his watch ; 
 I pray you send him to the hospital." 
 
 The pompous brute vaingloriously great 
 In blue and buttons, haughtily silenced Paul, 
 Hand-bound and sent him guarded to the camp, 
 And the poor comrade shivering stood the watch 
 Till dawn of day and I was made aware. 
 Among the true were some vainglorious fools 
 Called by the tap of drum from native mire 
 To lord and strut in shoulder-straps and buttons. 
 Scrubs, born to brush the boots of gentlemen, 
 By freak of fickle fortune found themselves 
 Masters of better men, and lorded it 
 As only base and brutish natures can. 
 
 I interceded in my Paul's behalf, 
 Else he had suffered graver punishment, 
 But as himself for mercy would not beg, 
 " A stubborn boy," our bluff old colonel said- 
 To extra duty for a month he went
 
 PA ULINE. 23 
 
 At camp and on the picket. When the rain 
 
 Poured down most pitiless, Paul was sure to be 
 
 On picket-duty without tent or fire ; 
 
 When the broad sun at mid-day blazed and burned, 
 
 Like the red flame on Mauna Loa's top, 
 
 Withering the grass and parching earth and air, 
 
 I often saw him knapsacked and full-dressed, 
 
 Drilling the raw recruits at double-quick; 
 
 And yet he wore a patient countenance, 
 
 And went about his duty earnestly, 
 
 As if it were a pleasure to obey. 
 
 The month wore off, then mad disaster gorged 
 
 Her maw with blood of heroes at Ball's Bluff. 
 
 'Twas there the brave and noble Baker fell 
 
 A sacrifice perhaps to treachery. 
 
 Quenched was the flame that fired a thousand hearts ; 
 
 Hushed was the voice that shook the senate-walls, 
 
 And rang defiance to the traitors there. 
 
 Broad o'er the rugged mountains to the north 
 
 Fell the incessant rain till, like a sea, 
 
 Him and the deadly ambush of the foe
 
 2 4 PAULINE. 
 
 The mighty river rolled and roared between. 
 Brave Baker saw the peril, but not his 
 The soul to shrink or falter, though he saw 
 His death-warrant in his orders. Forth he led 
 His proud brigade across the roaring chasm, 
 Firmly and bravely into the chasm of death. 
 From morn till mid-day in a single boat 
 Unfit, by companies, the fearless band 
 Passed o'er the swollen river ; then advanced 
 Upon the ambushed foe. We heard the roll 
 Of volleys in the forest, and uprose, 
 From out the wood, a cloud of battle-smoke. 
 Then came the yell of foemen charging down 
 Rank upon rank and furious. Hand to hand, 
 The little band of heroes, flanked and pressed, 
 Fought thrice their numbers; fearless Baker led 
 In prodigies of valor ; front and flank 
 Loud swarmed the furious foemen ; in the rear 
 The rapid, raging river rolled and roared. 
 Along the Maryland shore a mile below, 
 Eager to cross and re-inforce our friends, 
 Ten thousand soldiers lay upon their arms ; 
 And we had boats to spare. In all our ranks
 
 PA ULINE. 25 
 
 There was not one who did not comprehend 
 The peril and the instant need of aid. 
 Charing we waited orders. We could see 
 That Baker's men were fighting in retreat ; 
 For ever nearer o'er the forest rose 
 The smoke of battle. Orders came at last, 
 And up along the bank our regiment ran, 
 Eager to aid our comrades, but too late. 
 Baker had fallen in the battle front ; 
 He fought like Spartan and like Spartan fell. 
 Their leader lost, confusion followed fast ; 
 Wild panic and red slaughter ruled the field. 
 Powerless to save we saw the farther shore 
 Covered with wounded and wild fugitives 
 Our own defeated and defenseless friends. 
 Shattered and piled with wounded men the boat 
 Pushed off to brave the river, while the foe 
 Pressed on the charge with fury, and refused 
 Mercy to the vanquished. Officers and men, 
 Cheating the frenzied foemen of their spoils, 
 Their flags and arms into the gurgling depths 
 Despairing hurled, and following plunged amain. 
 As numerous as the wild aquatic flocks
 
 26 PAULINE, 
 
 That float in autumn on Lake Winnipeg, 
 
 The heads of swimmers moved upon the flood. 
 
 And still upon the shore a Spartan few 
 
 Shoulder to shoulder back to back as one 
 
 Amid the din and clang of clashing steel, 
 
 Surrounded held the swarming foes at bay. 
 
 As in the pre-historic centuries 
 
 Unnumbered ages ere the pyramids 
 
 Whereof we read on pre-diluvian bones 
 
 And fretted flints in excavated caves, 
 
 When savage men abode in rocky dens, 
 
 And wrought their weapons from the fiery flint, 
 
 And clothed their tawny thighs in lion-skins, 
 
 Before the mouth of some well-guarded cave, 
 
 Where smoked the savory flesh of mammoth, came 
 
 The great cave-bear unbidden to the feast. 
 
 Around the monster swarm the brawny men, 
 
 Wielding with sinewy arms and savage cries 
 
 Their flinty spears and tomahawks of stone : 
 
 Erect old bruin growls upon his foes, 
 
 And swings with mighty power his ponderous paws, 
 
 Woe unto him who feels the crushing blow, 
 
 Till bleeding from an hundred wounds and blind,
 
 PAULINE. 27 
 
 With sudden plunge he falls at last, and dies 
 Amid the shouts of his wild enemies. 
 So fought the Spartan few till, one by one, 
 They fell surrounded by a wall of foes. 
 The river boiled beneath the storm of lead ; 
 Weighed down with heavy clothing many sunk, 
 But more went down with bullets in their heads. 
 O ! it was pitiful. The out-stretched hands 
 Of men that erst had faced the battle-storm 
 Unshaken, grasping now in wild despair, 
 Wrung tears of pity from us. Vain our fire, 
 The range too long, it fell upon our friends ; 
 At which the foemen yelled their mad delight. 
 A shower of bullets poured upon the boat, 
 Mangling the mangled on her, till at last, 
 Shattered and over-laden, suddenly 
 She made a lurch to leeward and went down. 
 
 A shallow boat lay moored upon the shore ; 
 Our gallant Colonel called for volunteers 
 In mercy's name to man it and push out. 
 But all could see the peril. Stout the heart
 
 28 PAULINE. 
 
 Would dare to face the raging flood and fire, 
 
 And to his call responded not a man 
 
 Save Paul and one who perished at the helm. 
 
 They went as if at bugle-call to drill ; 
 
 Their comrades said, " They never will return." 
 
 Stoutly and steadily Paul rowed the boat 
 
 Athwart the rolling river's sullen tide, 
 
 And reached the wounded struggling in the flood. 
 
 Bravely they worked away and lifted in 
 
 The helpless till the boat would hold no more ; 
 
 Others they helped to holds upon the rails, 
 
 Then pulled away the over-laden craft. 
 
 We cheered them from the shore. The maddened foe 
 
 With furious volleys answered, hitting oft 
 
 The little craft of mercy ; hands anon 
 
 Relaxed their holds and sunk into the deep ; 
 
 And in that storm Paul's gallant comrade fell. 
 
 Trimming his craft with caution Paul could make 
 
 But little headway with a single oar, 
 
 The other had been wildly clutched away. 
 
 Unscathed he stood ; then fell a sudden sho\vcr 
 
 That broke his bended oar-stem near the blade. 
 
 Down to the brink we crept and stretched our hands, 
 
 And cried to him to swim and save himself.
 
 PAULINE. 29 
 
 He stood a moment as if all were lost, 
 
 Then caught the rope, and stretching forth his hand, 
 
 Waved to the foe and leaped into the flood. 
 
 Slowly he towed the clumsy craft and swam, 
 
 Down-drifting with the rapid, rolling stream. 
 
 Cheering him on adown the shore we ran ; 
 
 The current lent its aid and bore him in 
 
 Toward us, and beyond the range at last 
 
 Of foemen's fire he safely came to land, 
 
 Mooring his boat amid a storm of cheers. 
 
 Confined in hospital three days he lay 
 Fatigued and feverous, but tender hands 
 Nursed and restored him. Our old Colonel came 
 And thanked him patting Paul paternally 
 And praised his prowess. " Noble boy," he said, 
 " Had I a regiment of such men, by Jove! 
 I'd cut my way to Richmond in a week." 
 Paul made reply, and in his smile and tone 
 Mingled a touch of sarcasm :
 
 30 PA ULINE. 
 
 " Thank you, sir ; 
 
 But let me add I fear the wary foe 
 Would nab your reg'ment napping on the field. 
 You have forgotten, Colonel not so fast, 
 I am the man that slept upon his post." 
 Our bluff old Colonel laughed and turned away ; 
 Ten minutes later came his sole reply 
 A basketful of luxuries from his mess. 
 
 Paul marched and fought and marched and fought 
 
 again, 
 
 Patient and earnest through the bootless toils 
 And fiery trials of that dread campaign 
 Upon the Peninsula. 'Tis fitly called 
 " Campaign of Battles." Aye, it sorely pierced 
 The scarred and bleeding nation, and drew blood 
 Deep from her vitals till she shook and reeled, 
 Like some vast giant staggering to his fall, 
 Blinded with blood, yet struggling with his soul, 
 And stretching forth his ponderous, brawny arms, 
 Like Samson in the Temple, to o'erwhelm 
 And crush his mocking enemies in his fall.
 
 PAULINE. 31 
 
 Ah, Malvern! you remember Malvern Hill, 
 That night of fearful butchery ! Round the top 
 Of the entrenched summit, parked and aimed, 
 Blazed like Vesuvius when he bellows fire 
 And molten lava into the midnight heavens, 
 An hundred crashing cannon, and the hill 
 Shook to the thunder of the mighty guns, 
 As ocean trembles to the bursting throes 
 Of submarine volcanoes ; and the shells 
 From the embattled gun-boats fiery slugs, 
 As blazing meteors through the ether hissed 
 Like Hell's infernals. Line supporting line, 
 From base to summit round the blazing hill, 
 Our infantry was posted. Crowned with fire, 
 And zoned by many a blazing, burning belt 
 From head to foot, and belching sulphurous flames, 
 The embattled hill appeared a raging fiend 
 The Lucifer of Hell let loose to reign 
 Over a world wrapt in the final fires. 
 
 In solid columns massed our frenzied foes 
 Beat out their life against the blazing hill ;
 
 32 PAULINE. 
 
 Broke and re-formed and madly charged again, 
 And thundered like the storm-lashed, furious sea 
 Beating in vain against the solid cliffs. 
 Foremost in front our veteran regiment 
 Breasted the brunt of battle, but we bent 
 Beneath the onsets as the red-hot bar 
 Bends to the sledge, until our furious foes 
 Baffled and beaten mown like prairie-grass 
 Before autumnal fires fell back and left 
 A field of bloody agony and death 
 About the base, and victory on the hill. 
 
 I lost a score of riflemen that night ; 
 
 My first lieutenant his last battle" over 
 
 Lay cut in twain upon the battle-line. 
 
 With lantern dim wide o'er the frightful field 
 
 I searched at midnight for my wounded men, 
 
 But chiefly searched for Paul. An hour or more 
 
 I sought among the groaning and the dead, 
 
 Stooping and to the dim light turning up 
 
 The ghastly faces, till at last I found 
 
 Him whom I sought, and on the outer line,
 
 PA ULINE. 33 
 
 Feet to the foe and silent face to Heaven, 
 Dead-pale and bleeding from a dangerous wound, 
 Gashed by the ragged fragment of a shell. 
 Pleading with feeble voice to let him be 
 And die upon the field, we bore him thence ; 
 And tenderly his comrades carried him, 
 Sheltered with blankets, on the weary march 
 At dead of night in dismal storm becfun. 
 
 o o 
 
 We made a stand at Harrison's, and there 
 With careful hands we laid him on a cot. 
 Now I had learned to prize the noble boy ; 
 My heart was touched with pity. Patiently 
 I watched o'er Paul and bathed his fevered brow, 
 And pressed the cooling sponge upon his lips, 
 And washed his wound and gave him nourishment. 
 'Twas all in vain, the surgeon said. I felt 
 That I could save him and I kept my watch. 
 A rib was crushed, beneath it one could see 
 The throbbing vitals torn, as we supposed, 
 But found unwounded. In his feverish dreams 
 He often moaned and muttered mysteries, 
 And seemed to speak to one he dearly loved. 
 I questioned him and sought the secret key
 
 34 PA ULINE. 
 
 To solve his mystery, but all in vain. 
 
 A month of careful nursing turned the scale, 
 
 And he began to gain upon his wound. 
 
 Propt in his cot one evening as he sat, 
 
 And I sat by him, thus I questioned hi-m : 
 
 " There is a mystery about your life 
 
 That I would gladly fathom. Paul, I think 
 
 You well may trust me, and I fain would hear 
 
 The story of your life ; right well I know 
 
 There is a secret sorrow in your heart." 
 
 He turned his face and fixed his lustrous eyes , 
 
 Upon mine own enquiringly, and held 
 
 His gaze upon me till his vacant stare 
 
 Told me full well his thoughts had wandered back 
 
 Into the depths of his own silent soul ; 
 
 Then he looked down and sadly smiled and said : 
 
 " Captain, I have no history not one page ; 
 My book of life is but a blotted blank. 
 Let it be sealed ; I would not open it,
 
 PA ULINE. 35 
 
 Even to you who saved a worthless life, 
 
 Only to add a few more leaves in blank 
 
 To the blank volume. All that I now am 
 
 I offer for our country. If I live 
 
 And from this cot walk forth, 'twill only be 
 
 ' To march and fight and march and fight again/ 
 
 Until a surer aim shall bring me down 
 
 Where care and kindness can no more avail. 
 
 Under our Country's flag a soldier's death 
 
 I hope to die and leave no name behind. 
 
 My only -wish is this, for what I am 
 
 Or have b'een, or have hoped to be, is now 
 
 A blank misfortune. I will say no more." 
 
 I questioned Paul and pressed him further still 
 
 To tell his story, but he only shook 
 
 His head in silence sadly and lay back, 
 
 And closed his eyes and whispered " All is blank." 
 
 That night he muttered often as he slept ; 
 
 I could not catch the sense of what he said ; 
 
 I caught a name that he repeated oft 
 
 Pauline so softly whispered that I thought 
 
 It was the balmy burden, of his dreams.
 
 36 PAULINE. 
 
 Two moons had waxed and waned, and Paul arose, 
 
 Came to the camp and shared my tent and bed. 
 
 While in the hospital, he helpless lay 
 
 To him unknown, and as the choice of all 
 
 Came his promotion to the vacant rank 
 
 Of him who fell at Malvern. But, alas, 
 
 Say what we would he would not take the post. 
 
 To us who importuned him, he replied : 
 
 " Comrades and friends, I did not join your ranks 
 
 For honor or for profit. All I am 
 
 A wreck perhaps of what I might have been 
 
 I freely offer in our Country's cause ; 
 
 And in her cause it is my wish to serve, 
 
 A private soldier ; I aspire to naught 
 
 But victory, and there be better men 
 
 Braver and hardier, such should have the place." 
 
 His comrades cheered, but Paul, methought, was 
 
 sad. 
 
 One evening as he sat upon his couch, 
 Communing with himself, as he was wont, 
 I sat before him ; gazing in his face,
 
 PAULINE. 37 
 
 I said, " Pauline, her name is then, Pauline" 
 All of a sudden up he rose amazed, 
 And looked upon me with such startled eyes, 
 That I was pained, and feared that I had done 
 A wrong to him whom I had learned to love. 
 Then he sat down upon his couch and groaned, 
 And pressed his hand upon his wound, and said : 
 " Captain, I pray you, tell me truthfully, 
 Wherefore you speak that name." 
 
 I told him all 
 
 That I had heard him mutter in his dreams. 
 He listened calmly to the close and said : 
 " My friend, if you have any kind regard 
 For me who suffer more than you may ki&ow, 
 I pray you utter not that name again." 
 And thereupon he turned and hid his face. 
 
 There was a mystery I might not fathom, 
 
 There was a history I might not hear : 
 
 Nor could I further press that saddened heart
 
 38 PA ULINE. 
 
 Its secret sorrow in my ears to pour. 
 Thereafter Paul was tenant of my tent, 
 Ate at rny mess and slept upon my couch, 
 Save when his 5 duty called him from my side, 
 And not a word escaped his lips or mine 
 About his secret, yet how oft I found 
 My eyes upon him and my bridled tongue 
 Prone to a question ; but that solemn face 
 Forbade me and he wore his mystery. 
 
 At that grand battle on Antietam's banks 
 Where gallant Hooker led the fierce attack, 
 Paul bore a glorious part. Our starry flag 
 Before a whirlwind of terrific fire 
 Advancing proudly on the foe, went down. 
 Grim death and pale-faced panic seized the ranks. 
 Paul caught the flag and waving it aloft 
 Rallied our regiment. He came out unscathed. 
 
 At Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville he fought ; 
 Grim in disaster, bravest in defeat,
 
 PA II LINE. 39 
 
 He leaped not into danger without cause, 
 Nor shrunk he from it though a gulf of fire, 
 When duty bade him face it. All his aim 
 To win the victory ; applause and praise 
 He almost hated ; grimly he endured 
 The fulsome flattery of his comrades nerved 
 By his calm courage up to manlier deeds. 
 
 I saw him angered once if one might call 
 
 His sullen silence anger, as by night 
 
 Across the Rappahannock, from the field 
 
 Where grim and gallant ' Stonewall ' Jackson fell, 
 
 With hopeless hearts and heavy steps we marched. 
 
 Such graven wrath on other human face 
 
 I never saw in all those bloody years. 
 
 One evening after, as he read to me 
 
 The fulsome General Order of our Chief 
 
 Congratulating officers and men 
 
 On their achievements in the late defeat 
 
 His sullen face grew rigid as he read, 
 
 And as he closed, down like a thunder-clap 
 
 Upon the mess-chest fell his clenched fist :
 
 40 PA ULINE. 
 
 " Fit pap for fools!" he said, "' an Iron Duke 
 Had ground the Southern legions into dust, 
 Or, by the gods ! the field of Chancellorsville 
 Had furnished graves for ninety thousand men! "* 
 
 That dark disaster sickened many a soul ; 
 Stout hearts were sad and cowards cried for peace. 
 The vulture, perched hard by the eagle's crag, 
 Loud-cawed his fellows from afar to feast 
 Upon the poor Republic's bleeding limbs. 
 Ill-omened bird, his carrion-cries were vain ! 
 Again our veteran eagles plumed their wings, 
 And forth he fled from Montezuma's shores, 
 A dastard fight betraying unto death 
 Him whom he dazzled with a bauble crown. 
 Just retribution followed swift and sure, 
 Germania's eagles plucked him at Sedan. 
 A gloomy month wore off, and then the news 
 That Lee, emboldened by his late success, 
 Had poured his legions upon Northern soil, 
 
 *Hooker had 90,000 men at Chancellorsville.
 
 PA ULINE. 41 
 
 Rung through the camp, and thrilled the mighty 
 heart 
 
 Of the Grand Army. Louder than the roar 
 
 Of brazen cannon on the battle-field, 
 
 Then rose and rolled our thunder-rounds of cheers. 
 
 We saw the dawn of victory, we should meet 
 
 Our monster foe upon familiar soil. 
 
 We cheered the news, we cheered the marching- 
 orders, 
 
 We cheered our gallant chieftain till the tears 
 
 Ran down his cheeks. Up from its sullen gloom 
 
 Leaped the Grand Army, as if God had writ 
 
 With fiery finger 'thwart the vault of Heaven 
 
 A solemn promise of swift victory. 
 
 We marched. As rolls the deep, resistless flood 
 Of Mississippi, when the rains of June 
 Have swelled his thousand northern fountain-lakes 
 Above their barriers, rolls with restless roar, 
 Anon through rock-built gorges, and anon, 
 Down through the prairied valley to the sea, 
 Gleaming and glittering in the summer sun.
 
 42 PA ULINE. 
 
 By field and forest on his winding way ; 
 So stretched and rolled the mighty column forth, 
 Winding among the hills and pouring out 
 Along the vernal valleys ; so the sheen 
 Of moving bayonets glittered in the sun. 
 And as we marched there rolled upon the air, 
 Up from the vanguard-corps, a choral chant, 
 Feeble at first and far and far away, 
 But gathering volume as it rolled along, 
 And regiment after regiment joined the choir, 
 Until an hundred thousand voices swelled 
 The surging chorus, and the solid hills 
 Shook to the thunder of the mighty song. 
 And as it died away along the line, 
 The hill-tops caught the chorus rolled away 
 From peak to peak the pealing thunder chant, 
 Clear as the chime of bells on Sabbath morn ; 
 " THE UNION THE UNION FOREVER! " 
 
 Far away 
 
 The mountains echoed and re-echoed still, 
 " THE UNION THE UNION FOREVER ! "
 
 PA ULINE. 43 
 
 Till the winds 
 
 Bore the re-echoing chorus southward far, 
 And the dull distance lost it to our ears. 
 
 Fast by the field where glorious Baker fell, 
 We crossed the famous river and advanced 
 To Frederick. There a transitory cloud 
 Gloomed the Grand Army, Hooker was relieved, 
 The dashing, daring, soul-inspiring chief,-- 
 The idol of his soldiers, and they mourned. 
 He had his faults, they were not faults of heart, 
 His gravest fiery valor. Since that day, 
 The self-same fault or virtue crowned a chief 
 With laurel plucked on rugged Kennesaw. 
 Envy it was that wrought the hero's fall, 
 Envy, with hydra-heads and serpent-tongues, 
 Hissed on the wolfish clamors of the Press. 
 O fickle Fortune, how thy favors fall- 
 Like rain upon the just and the unjust ! 
 Throughout the army, as the soldiers read 
 The farewell-order, gloomy murmurs ran ; 
 But our new chieftan fortified our hearts.
 
 44 PA ULINE. 
 
 That Meade would choose his battle-ground we knew, 
 
 And if not his the eager dash and dare, 
 
 That on Antietam's bloody battle-field 
 
 Snatched victory from defeat, our faith was firm 
 
 That he would fight for victory, holding us 
 
 Safely in hand, nor sacrifice our lives 
 
 In wild assaults and fruitless daring- deeds. 
 
 From Taneytown, at mid-day, on the hills 
 Of Gettysburg we heard the cannon boom. 
 Our gallant Hancock rode full speed away, 
 And under Gibbon fast we followed him, 
 And camped at night on Cemetery Hill. 
 Sharp the initial combat of the grand 
 On-coming battle, and the sulphurous smoke 
 Lay like a fog along the narrow vale 
 Between two hostile armies, mightier far 
 Than met upon the field of Marathon, 
 Or where the proud Carthago bowed to Rome. 
 Hope of the North and Liberty the one 
 Pride of the South the other. On the hills 
 A rolling range of rugged, royal hills,
 
 PA ULINE. 45 
 
 Stretching from Round-Top northward, curving 
 
 thence 
 
 And butting down upon a silver stream 
 In hasty works our veteran regiments lay. 
 Facing our battle-line and parallel 
 Beyond the narrow valley to the west 
 Lay Seminary Ridge a crest of hills, 
 Partially wooded. On this serrate range, 
 As numerous as the swarming ocean-fowl 
 That perch in squadrons on some barren isle, 
 Far in the Arctic sea when summer-sun 
 With slanting spears invades the icy realm, 
 The Southern legions lay upon their arms. 
 As countless as the winter-evening stars 
 That glint and glow above the frosted fields 
 Twinkled and blazed upon that crest of hills 
 The camp-fires of the foe. Two mighty hosts, 
 Ready and panoplied for deadliest war, 
 And eager for the combat where the prize 
 Of victory was Empire, for the foe 
 An empire borne upon the bended backs 
 Of toiling slaves in millions, but for us 
 An empire grounded on the rights of man
 
 46 PA ULINE. 
 
 Lay on their arms awaiting innocent morn 
 To light the field for slaughter to begin. 
 
 Silent above us spread the dusky heavens, 
 Silent below us lay the shrouded vale, 
 Silent beyond, the dreadful crest of hills. 
 Anon the neigh of horse, a sentry's call, 
 Or rapid hoof-beats of a flying steed 
 Bearing an aid and orders, broke the dread, 
 Portentous silence. I was worn and slept. 
 
 The call of bugles wakened me. The dawn 
 Was stealing softly o'er the shadowy land 
 And morning grew apace. Broad in the east 
 Uprose above the crest of hazy hills, 
 Like some vast shield by fabled giant borne, 
 The golden sun, and flashed upon the field, 
 
 
 
 While far on either hand the rugged heights 
 Swarmed with the busy bustle of the camps. 
 The morning passed and mid-day. Here and there 
 The crack of rifle on the picket-line,
 
 PA ULINE. 47 
 
 Or boom of solitary cannon broke 
 
 The myriad-voic'd and dreadful monotone. 
 
 So fled the anxious hours until the hills 
 
 Sent forth their silent shadows to the east, 
 
 And then their batteries opened on our left 
 
 Advanced into the valley. All along 
 
 The serried crest of Seminary Ridge 
 
 Rolled up the smoke of cannon. Answered then 
 
 The grim artillery on our chain of hills, 
 
 And heaven was hideous with the bellowing boom, 
 
 The whiz of shot, the infernal shrieks of shells. 
 
 Down from the hills their charging column came 
 
 A glittering mass of steel. As when the snow 
 
 Piled by an hundred winters on the peak 
 
 Of cloud-robed Bernard thunders down the cliffs, 
 
 Nor rocks nor forests stay the mighty mass, 
 
 And men and flocks in terror fly the death, 
 
 So thundering fell the column of the foe 
 
 Crushing brave Sickles' corps in front and flank, 
 
 And roaring onward like a mighty wind. 
 
 But Hancock saw the peril : up we leaped 
 
 And dashed for Round-Top rugged eminence 
 
 Key to our Left and Centre. Stormed and yelled
 
 48 PA ULINE. 
 
 The furious foemen pressing on the charge 
 To gain the rugged hill. We reached it first 
 And formed our line behind a broken wall. 
 On came the surging column. Sword in hand, 
 Waving and shouting to his frenzied corps, 
 Rode furious Longstreet leading on the foe. 
 An hundred cannon on our blazing hills 
 Poured down their iron storm of shot and shell, 
 Continuous crashed the rounds of musketry, 
 And high above the horrid tempest howled 
 The hideous shouts of the advancing host. 
 Even as a whirlwind charged with lightning roars 
 Down through a dusky forest and its path 
 Is strown with shattered and uprooted trees 
 Promiscuous piled in broad and broken swaths 
 So crashed our volleys through their serried ranks- 
 Mowing great swaths of death, yet on and up 
 Closing the gaps and yelling like the fiends 
 That Dante heard along the gulf of Hell- 
 Still came our furious foes. A cloud of smoke, 
 Dense, blinding, sulphurous, shrouded all the hill. 
 Our rifles blazed upon the blaze below, 
 The blaze below upon the blaze above,
 
 PA ULINE. 49 
 
 And in the blaze the buzz of myriad bees 
 Whose stings were deadlier than the Libyan asp. 
 On up they come like demons through the smoke, 
 They reach the crest, they rush upon the wall ! 
 Lo from our line a sheet of crackling fire 
 "Scorches their grimy faces, back they reel 
 And tumble down and down a rolling mass 
 Of slaughter and defeat ! 
 
 Leaped on the wall 
 
 Ten thousand " Blues " and swung their hats in air, 
 Thundering their wild huzzas above the roar 
 And crash of cannon ; victory was ours. 
 Back to his crest of hills the baffled foe 
 Reluctant turned and fled the storm of death. 
 
 The smoke of battle floated from the field, 
 And lo the hillside piled with slaughter-heaps ! 
 And lo the valley dotted with the slain ! 
 And lo the rank of dead and dying men 
 That fighting- fell behind the battered wall !
 
 50 PAULINE. 
 
 Night hovered o'er us on her dusky wings ; 
 Then all along our lines upon the hills 
 Blazed up the evening camp-fires. Facing us 
 Beyond the smoke-robed valley sparkled up 
 A chain of fires on Seminary Ridge. 
 The hum of mingled voices filled the air. 
 As when upon the bosom of the sea 
 And all along the rock-built, somber shore 
 Murmurs the menace of the coming storm, 
 The muttering of the tempest from afar, 
 The plash and moan of surf upon the sand, 
 The roll of distant thunder in the heavens, 
 Unite and blend in one prevailing voice, 
 So rose the mingled murmurs of our camps, 
 So rose the groans and moans of mangled men 
 Along the slope and valley, and so rolled 
 From yonder frowning parallel of hills 
 The muttering menace of our furious foes ; 
 And so from camp to camp and hill to hill 
 Murmured the mighty mutter-mingled moan 
 Of an hundred thousand voices blent in one.
 
 PAULINE. 51 
 
 That night a multitude of friends and foes 
 Slept soundly, but they slept to wake no more. 
 But few indeed among the living slept ; 
 We lay upon our arms and courted sleep 
 With open eyes and ears : the fears and hopes 
 That centered in the half-fought battle held 
 The balm of slumber from our weary limbs. 
 Anon the rattle of the random fire 
 Broke on our eager ears and startled us, 
 Whereat the hardier veterans cursed aloud. 
 
 Midnight had passed and I lay wakeful still, 
 When Paul arose and sat upon the sward. 
 He said : " I cannot sleep ; unbidden thoughts 
 That will not down crowd on my restless brain. 
 Captain, I know not how, but still I know 
 That I shall see but one more sunrise. Morn 
 Will bring the clash of arms, to-morrow's sun 
 Will look upon unnumbered ghastly heaps 
 And withered ranks of dead and dying men, 
 And ere it sink beyond the western hills 
 Up from this field shall roll a mighty shout
 
 52 PAULINE. 
 
 Victorious, echoed wide o'er land and sea, 
 Proclaiming joy to freemen everywhere. 
 And I shall fall. I cannot tell you how 
 I know it but I feel it in my soul. 
 I pray that death may spare me till I hear 
 Our shout of ' Victory ! ' rolling o'er these hills 
 With ' Hail Columbia ! ' from our bugle-horns ;- 
 Then will I lay me down and die in peace." 
 
 I lightly said, " Sheer superstition, Paul ; 
 I'll wager a month's pay you'll live to fight 
 A dozen battles yet. They ill become 
 A gallant soldier on the battle field- 
 Such grandam superstitions. You have fought 
 Ever like a hero, do you falter now ? " 
 
 " Captain," he said, " I shall not falter now, 
 But gladlier will I hail the rising sun. 
 Death has no terror for a heart-forlorn. 
 Say what you may and call it what you will-r- 
 I know that I shall fall to rise no more
 
 PAULINE. 53 
 
 Before the sun-set of the coming day. 
 If this be superstition still I know ; 
 If this be fear it will not hold me back." 
 I answered : 
 
 " Paul, I hope this prophecy 
 Will prove you a false prophet ; but, my boy, 
 Have you no farewells for your friends at home ? 
 No message for a nearer, dearer one ? " 
 
 " None ; there is none I knew in brighter days 
 Knows where or what I am, So let it be. 
 If there be those not many who may care 
 For one who cares so little for himself, 
 Surely my soldier-name in the gazette 
 Among the killed will bring no pang to them." 
 And then he laid himself upon the sward ; 
 Perhaps he slept, I know not, for fatigue 
 O'ercame me and I slept. 
 
 The picket guns 
 At random firing wakened me. The morn
 
 54 PAULINE. 
 
 Blushed in the east and sat upon the hills, 
 
 While clouds of smoke filled all the narrow vales. 
 
 Blood-red as risen from a sea of blood, 
 
 The tardy sun as if in dread arose, 
 
 And hid his face in the uplifting smoke. 
 
 As when pale Luna, envious of the glow 
 
 And gleam and glory of the god of day, 
 
 Creeps in by stealth between the earth and him, 
 
 Eclipsing all his glory, and the green 
 
 Of hills and dales is changed to yellowish dun, 
 
 So fell the strange and lurid light of morn. 
 
 And as I gazed I heard the hunger-cries 
 
 Of vultures circling on their dusky wings 
 
 Above the smoke-filled valley ; then they plunged 
 
 To gorge themselves upon the slaughter-heaps, 
 
 As at that Buddhist temple in Siam 
 
 Whereto the hideous vultures flock to feast 
 
 With famished dogs upon the pauper dead. 
 
 The day wore on. Two mighty armies stood 
 Defiant, watching, dreading to assault ; 
 Each hoping that the other would assault
 
 PAULINE. 55 
 
 And madly dash against its glittering steel. 
 As in the jungles of the Chambeze, 
 Glaring defiance with their fiery eyes, 
 Two tawny lions rival monarchs meet 
 And fright the forest with their horrid roar ; 
 But ere they close in bloody combat, crouch 
 And wait and watch for vantage in attack ; 
 So on their trenched hills the hostile hosts 
 Waited and watched for vantage in the fight. 
 Noon came. The fire of pickets died away. 
 All eyes were turned to Seminary Ridge, 
 For lo our sullen foemen park on park 
 Had massed their grim artillery on our corps. 
 Hoarse voices sunk to whispers or were hushed ; 
 The rugged hills stood listening in awe ; 
 So dread the ominous silence that I heard 
 The hearts of soldiers throbbing along the line. 
 
 Up from a battery curled a cloud of smoke, 
 Shrieked o'er our heads a solitary shell ; 
 Then instantly in horrid concert roared 
 Two hundred cannon on the frowning hills
 
 56 PAULINE. 
 
 Hurling their awful thunderbolts and then 
 
 An hundred bellowing canon from our lines 
 
 Thundered their iron answer. Horrible 
 
 Rolled in the heavens the infernal thunders, rolled 
 
 From hill to hill the reverberating roar, 
 
 As if the earth were bursting with the throes 
 
 Of some vast pent volcano ; rocked and reeled, 
 
 As in an earthquake-shock the solid hills ; 
 
 Anon huge fragments of the hillside rocks, 
 
 And limbs and splinters of shot-shattered trees 
 
 Danced in the smoke like demons ; hissed and 
 
 howled 
 
 The crashing shell-storm bursting over us. 
 Prone on the earth awaiting the grand charge, 
 To which we knew the heavy cannonade 
 Was but a prelude, for two hours we lay, 
 And many a brave man never rose again. 
 Then ceased our guns to swell the infernal roar; 
 The rolling crash of cannon in our front 
 Lulled, and we heard the foeman's bugle-calls. 
 Lo from the crest of Seminary Ridge * 
 
 Poured down the storming columns of the foe. 
 As when the rain-clouds from the verge of heaven
 
 PAULINE. 57 
 
 Are gathered by the four contending winds, 
 And whirled and swirled until they meet and clash 
 Above the hills and burst down pours a sea, 
 And plunges roaring down the rocky glens, 
 So poured the surging columns of our foes 
 Adown the slopes and spread along the vale 
 In glittering ranks of battle line on line 
 Mile-long. Arose their furious battlo cries 
 Above the roar of cannon. 
 
 They advance. 
 
 Before them swarm the skillful skirmishers ; 
 A fearless chieftan leads the eager host ; 
 He right and left his fiery charger wheels, 
 And points with gleaming sabre to our lines. 
 As 'mid the myriad twinkling stars of heaven 
 Flashes the blazing comet, and a column 
 Of fiery fury follows it, so flashed 
 The dauntless chief, so followed his wild host. 
 
 We waited grim and silent till they crossed 
 The valley and began the dread ascent.
 
 58 PAULINE. 
 
 Then brazen bugles rang the clarion call, 
 Arose as one twice twenty thousand men, 
 And all our hill-tops blazed with crackling fire. 
 With sudden crash and simultaneous roar, 
 An hundred canon opened instantly, 
 And all the vast hills shuddered under us. 
 Yelling their mad defiance to our fire 
 Still on and upward came our furious foes. 
 As when upon the wooded mountain-side 
 ; The unchained " :: 'Loki riots and the winds 
 Of an autumnal tempest lash the flames, 
 Whirling the burning fragments through the air 
 Huge blazing limbs and tops of blasted pines, 
 Mowing wide swaths with circling scythes of fire, 
 So fell our fire upon the advancing host, 
 And lashed their ranks and mowed them into heaps, 
 Cleaving broad avenues of death. Still on 
 And up they come undaunted, closing up 
 The ghastly gaps and firing as they come. 
 As if protected by the shield of Heaven, 
 Rides at their head their gallant leader still ; 
 The tempest drowns his voice, his flaming sword 
 
 *Norse fire-fiend.
 
 PAULINE. 59 
 
 Gleams in the flash of rifles. One wild yell, 
 Swelled by ten thousand hideous voices, rings 
 Along the slope like the fierce hungry-howl 
 Of famished wolves upon the bison's track, 
 And through the battle-cloud the bravest burst ; 
 They plant their tattered banner on our works ; 
 Thunders their shout of victory ! Appalled, 
 Our serried ranks are broken, but in vain ! 
 On either hand our cannon enfilade, 
 And pour their iron storms of canister ; 
 In front our deadly rifles volley still, 
 And mow the toppling swaths of mangled men. 
 Behold they falter ! now they break ! they fly ! 
 Leap to the charge our eager infantry, 
 With cheers- that echo on the vault of heaven ! 
 We press them headlong down the bloody hill ; 
 They break in wild disorder, cast away 
 Their arms and fly in panic. All the vale 
 Is spread with slaughter and wild fugitives. 
 Wide o'er the field the scattered foeman fly ; 
 Dread havoc and mad terror swift pursue 
 Till battle is but slaughter. Thousands fall 
 Thousands surrender, and the Southern flag 
 Is trailed upon the field. .
 
 60 PA ULINE. 
 
 The day was ours, 
 
 And well we knew the worth of victory. 
 Loud rolled the rounds of cheers from corps to 
 
 corps ; 
 
 Comrades embraced each other ; iron men 
 Shed tears of joy like women ; men profane 
 Fell on their knees and thanked Almighty God. 
 Then " Hail Columbia ! " rang the brazen horns, 
 And all the hill-tops shouted unto heaven ; 
 The we'ikin shouted to the shouting hills, 
 And heavens and hill-tops shouted " Victory /" 
 
 Night with her pall had wrapped the bloody field. 
 
 The remnants of my gallant company 
 
 Were gathered and encamped upon the hill. 
 
 Paul was not with them, and they could not tell 
 
 Aught of him. I had seen him in the fight 
 
 Bravest of all the brave. I saw him last 
 
 When first the foremost foeman reached our works, 
 
 Thrusting them off with bloody bayonet, 
 
 And shouting to his comrades, " Steady, men ! " 
 
 Sadly I wandered back where we had met
 
 PAULINE. 6 1 
 
 The onset of the foe. The rounds of cheers 
 
 Repeated oft still swept from corps to corps, 
 
 And as I passed along the line I saw 
 
 Our wounded soldiers raise their weary heads, 
 
 And cheer with feeble voices. Even in death 
 
 The cry of victory warmed their hearts again. 
 
 Paul lay upon the ground where he had fought, 
 
 Fast by the flag that floated on the line. 
 
 He slept, or seemed to sleep, but on his brow 
 
 Sat such a deadly palor that I feared 
 
 My Paul would never march and fight again. 
 
 I raised his head, he woke as from a dream ; 
 
 I said, " Be quiet, you are badly hurt ; 
 
 I'll call a surgeon ; we will dress your wound." 
 
 He gravely said : 
 
 " 'Tis vain ; for I have done 
 
 With camp and march and battle. Ere the dawn 
 Shall I be mustered out of your command, 
 And mustered into the Grand Army of Heaven." 
 
 I sought a surgeon on the field and found ; 
 With me he came and opened the bloody blouse.
 
 62 PAULINE. 
 
 Felt the dull pulse and sagely shook his head. 
 A musket ball had done its deathly work ; 
 There was no hope, he said, the man might live 
 A day or two, but had no need of him. 
 I called his comrades and we carried him 
 Upon his blankets softly to our camp, 
 And laid him by the camp-fire. As the light 
 Fell on Paul's face he took my hand and said:
 
 PAULINE. 
 PART IL 
 
 " Captain ; I hear the cheers. My soul is glad. 
 My days are numbered, but this glorious day- 
 Like some far beacon on a shadowy cape 
 That guides and cheers the storm-belabored ships, 
 When midnight tempests lash the seething sea, 
 Will light the misty ages from afar. 
 This field shall be the Mecca. Here shall rise 
 A holier than the Caaba where men kiss 
 The sacred stone that flaming fell from heaven. 
 But O how many sad and broken hearts 
 Will mourn the loved ones never to return ! 
 Thank God no heart will hope for my return ! 
 Thank God no heart will mourn because I die ! 
 Captain ; at life's mid-summer flush and glow
 
 64 PA ULINE. 
 
 For him to die who leaves his golden hopes, 
 
 His mourning friends and idol-love behind, 
 
 It must be hard and seem a cruel thing. 
 
 After the victory upon this field 
 
 For me to die hath more of peace than pain ; 
 
 For I shall leave no golden hopes behind, 
 
 No idol-love to pine because I die, 
 
 No friends to wait my coming or to mourn ;- 
 
 They wait my coming in the world-to-be : 
 
 And wait not long, for I am almost there. 
 
 'Tis but a gasp and I shall pass the bound 
 
 'Twixt life and death, through death to life again- 
 
 Elysian life eternal. Pangs and pains 
 
 Of flesh or spirit will not pierce me there ; 
 
 And two will greet me from the jasper walls 
 
 God's angels with a song of holy peace, 
 
 And haste to meet me at the pearly gate, 
 
 And kiss the death-damp from my silent lips, 
 
 And lead me through the golden avenues 
 
 Singing Hosanna to the Great White Throne." 
 
 So there he paused and calmly closed his eyes, 
 And silently I sat and held his hand.
 
 PA ULINE. 65 
 
 After a time, when we were left alone, 
 
 He spoke again with calmer voice and said : 
 
 " Captain ; you oft have asked my history, 
 
 And I as oft refused. There is no cause 
 
 Why I should longer hold it from my friend 
 
 Who reads the closing chapter. It may teach 
 
 One soul to lean upon the arm of Christ, 
 
 That hope and happiness find anchorage 
 
 Only in heaven. While my lonesome life 
 
 Saw death but dimly in the dull distance 
 
 My lips were sealed to the unhappy tale. 
 
 I was ambitious in my boyhood days, 
 
 And dreamed of fame and honors misty fogs 
 
 That climb at morn the rugged cliff of life, 
 
 Veiling the ragged rocks and gloomy chasms, 
 
 And shaping airy castles on the top 
 
 With bristling battlements and looming towers, 
 
 But melt away into ethereal air 
 
 Beneath the blaze of the midsummer sun, 
 
 Till all the chasms and the ragged rocks 
 
 Are bare, and all the castles crumbled away.
 
 66 PA ULINE. 
 
 " There winds a river 'twixt two chains of hills 
 
 Fir-capped and rugged monuments of time ; 
 
 A narrow vale of rich alluvial land, 
 
 Washed from the slopes through circling centuries, 
 
 And sweet with clover and the hum of bees, 
 
 Lies fair between the rugged, somber hills. 
 
 Beneath a shade of willows and of elms 
 
 The river slumbers in this meadowy lap. 
 
 Down from the right there winds a babbling branch, 
 
 Cleaving a narrower valley through the hills, 
 
 And blends its waters with the greater stream 
 
 Around an island clad with clambering vines. 
 
 A grand bald-headed hill-cone on the right 
 
 Looms like a patriarch, and above the branch 
 
 There towers another. I have seen the day 
 
 When those bald-heads were plumed with lofty pines. 
 
 Below the branch and near the river-bank, 
 
 Hidden among the elms and butternuts, 
 
 The dear old cottage stands where I was born. 
 
 An English ivy clambers to the eaves, 
 
 A willow planted by my boyish hand 
 
 Now spreads its golden branches o'er the roof. 
 
 Not far below the cottage thrives a town,
 
 PA ULINE. 67 
 
 A busy town of mills and merchandise 
 
 Franccsca, thriftiest village of the vale. 
 
 Behind it looms the hill-cone, and in front 
 
 The peaceful river tumbles o'er a dam. 
 
 Beyond the river spreads a level plain 
 
 Once hid with somber firs a tangled marsh, 
 
 Now beautiful with field and cottages, 
 
 And sweet in spring-time with the blooming plum, 
 
 And white with apple-blossoms blown like snow. 
 
 Beyond the plain a lower chain of hills, 
 
 In summer gemmed with fields of golden -grain 
 
 Set in the emerald of the beechen woods. 
 
 In other days the village school-house stood 
 
 Below our cottage on a grassy mound 
 
 That sloped away unto the river's marge ; 
 
 And on the slope a cluster of tall pines 
 
 Crowning a copse of beech and evergreen. 
 
 There in my boyhood days I went to school ; 
 
 A maiden mistress ruled the little realm ; 
 
 She taught the rudiments to rompish rogues, 
 
 And walked a queen with magic wand of birch. 
 
 My years were hardly ten when father died. 
 
 Sole tenants of our humble cottage home 

 
 68 PA ULINE. 
 
 My sorrowing mother and myself remained. 
 But she was all economy, and kept 
 With my poor aid a comfortable house. 
 I was her idol and she wrought at night 
 To keep me at my books, and used to boast 
 That I should rise above our humble lot. 
 How oft I listened to her hopeful words 
 Poured from the fountain of a mother's heart, 
 Until I longed to wing the sluggard years 
 That bore me on to what I hoped to be. 
 
 " We had a garden plat behind the house, 
 Beyond, an orchard and a pasture-lot ; 
 In front a narrow meadow here and there 
 Shaded with elms and branching butternuts. 
 In spring and summer in the garden-plat 
 I wrought my morning and my evening hours, 
 And kept myself at school no idle boy. 
 
 " One morning in the sultry summer days 
 There came to school a stranger queenly fair, 
 With eyes that shamed the ethereal blue of heaven,
 
 PAULINE, 69 
 
 And golden hair in ringlets, cheeks as soft, 
 
 As fresh and rosy as the vermil-blush 
 
 Of summer-sunrise on the dew-damp hills. 
 
 Hers was the name I muttered in my dreams. 
 
 For days my bashful heart kept me aloof, 
 
 Although her senior by a single year; 
 
 But we were brought together oft in class, 
 
 And when she learned my name she spoke to me, 
 
 And then my tongue was loosed and we were friends. 
 
 Before the advent of the iron-horse 
 
 Her sire a shrewd and calculating man 
 
 Had lately come and purchased timbered-lands 
 
 And idle mills and made the town his home. 
 
 And he was well-to-do and growing rich, 
 
 And she her father's pet and only child. 
 
 In mind and stature for two happy years 
 
 We grew together at the village school. 
 
 We grew together ! aye, our fresh young hearts 
 
 There grew together till they beat as one. 
 
 Her tasks were mine, and mine alike were hers ; 
 
 We often stole away among the pines 
 
 That stately cluster on the sloping hill 
 
 And conned our lessons from the selfsame book,
 
 70 PA ULINE. 
 
 And learned to love each other o'er our tasks, 
 
 While in the pine-tops piped the oriole, 
 
 And from his beech the chattering squirrel chid 
 
 Our guileless love and artless innocence. 
 
 'Twas childish love perhaps, but day by day 
 
 It grew into our souls as we grew up. 
 
 Then there was opened in the prospering town 
 
 A higher school, and thither went Pauline. 
 
 I missed her and was sad for many a day, 
 
 Till mother gave me leave to follow her. 
 
 In autumn in vacation she would come 
 
 With girlish pretence to our cottage home. 
 
 She often brought my mother little gifts, 
 
 And cheered her with sweet songs and happy words ; 
 
 And I would pluck the fairest meadow-flowers 
 
 To grace the golden ringlets of her hair, 
 
 And fill her basket from the butternuts 
 
 That flourished in our little meadow-field. 
 
 I found in her all I had dreamed of Heaven. 
 
 So garlanded with latest-blooming flowers, 
 
 Chanting the mellow music of our hopes, 
 
 The silver-sandaled Autumn-hours tripped by ; 
 
 And mother learned to love her; but she feared,
 
 PA ULINE. 7 I 
 
 Knowing her heart and mine, that one rude hand 
 Might break our hopes asunder. Like a thief 
 I often crept about her father's house, 
 Under the evening shadows eager-eyed, 
 Peering for one dear face, and lingered late 
 To catch the silver music of one voice 
 That from her chamber nightly rose to heaven. 
 Her father's face I feared, a silent man, 
 Cold-faced, imperative, by nature prone 
 To set his will against the beating world ; 
 Warm-hearted but heart-crusted. 
 
 " Two years more 
 
 Thus wore away. Pauline grew up a queen. 
 A shadow fell across my sunny path ; 
 A hectic flush burned on my mother's cheeks ; 
 She daily failed and nearer drew to death. 
 Pauline would often come with sun-lit face, 
 And cheat the day of half its languid hours 
 With cheering chapters from the holy book, 
 Historic tales and sacred songs of old ; 
 And mother loved her all the better for it. 
 With feeble hands upon our sad-bowed heads,
 
 72 PAULINE. 
 
 And in a voice all tremulous with tears, 
 She said to us: ' Dear children, love each other,- 
 Bear and forbear, and come to me in Heaven ;' 
 And praying for us daily drooped and_died. 
 
 " After the sad and solemn funeral, 
 
 Alone and weeping and disconsolate, 
 
 I sat at evening by the cottage door. 
 
 I felt as if a dark and bitter fate 
 
 Had fallen on me in my tender years. 
 
 I seemed an aimless wanderer doomed to grope 
 
 In vain among the darkling years and die. 
 
 One only star shone through the shadowy mists. 
 
 The moon that wandered in the gloomy heavens 
 
 Was robed in shrouds ; the rugged, looming hills 
 
 Looked desolate ; the silent river seemed 
 
 A somber chasm, while my own pet lamb, 
 
 Mourning disconsolate among the trees, 
 
 As if he followed some dim phantom-form, 
 
 Bleated in vain and would not heed my call. 
 
 On weary hands I bent my weary head, 
 
 And lost myself in sad and bitter dreams.
 
 PA ULINE. 73 
 
 " An angel's hand was laid upon my head, 
 There in the moonlight stood my own Pauline 
 Angel of love and hope and holy faith 
 She flashed upon my dreamy reverie 
 As falls the meteor down the night-clad heavens 
 In silence. Then about my neck she clasped 
 Her loving arms and on my shoulder laid 
 Her golden tresses, while her silent tears 
 Fell warm upon my cheek like summer rain. 
 Heart clasped to heart and cheek to cheek we sat ; 
 The moon no longer gloomed, her face was cheer; 
 The rugged hills were old-time friends again ; 
 The peaceful river slept beneath the moon, 
 And my pet lamb came bounding to our side 
 And kissed her hand and mine as he was wont. 
 Then I awoke as from a dream and said : 
 ' Tell me, beloved, why you come to me 
 In this dark hour so late so desolate?' 
 And she replied : 
 
 " ' My darling, can I rest 
 While you are full of sorrow ? In my ear
 
 74 PA ULINE. 
 
 A spirit seemed to say ' Arise and go 
 
 To comfort him disconsolate.' Tell me, Paul, 
 
 Why should you mourn your tender life away ? 
 
 I will be mother to you ; nay, dear boy, 
 
 I will be more. Come brush away these tears.' 
 
 " My heart was full ; I kissed her anxious face : 
 
 ' You are an angel sent by one in Heaven,' 
 
 I said, ' to heal my heart, but I have lost 
 
 More than you know. The cruel hand of death 
 
 Hath left me orphan, friendless, poor indeed, 
 
 Saving the precious jewel of your love. 
 
 And what to do ; I know not what to do, 
 
 I feel so broken by a heavy hand. 
 
 My mother hoped that I would work my way 
 
 To competence and honor at the bar. 
 
 But shall I toil in poverty for years 
 
 To learn a science that so seldom yields 
 
 Or wealth or honor save to silvered heads ? 
 
 I know this path to fame and fortune leads 
 
 Through thorny brambles over ragged rocks ; 
 
 But can I follow in the common path 
 
 Trod by the millions, never to lift my head
 
 PAULINE. 75 
 
 Above the busy hordes that delve and drudge 
 For bare existence in this bitter world, 
 And be a mite, a midge, a worthless worm, 
 No more distinguished from the common mass 
 Than one poor polyp in the coral isle 
 Is marked amid the myriads teeming there? 
 Yet 'tis not for myself. For you, Pauline, 
 Upon the slippery heights of wealth and fame 
 Would I climb bravely, but if I would climb 
 By any art or science, I must train 
 Unto the task my feet for many years, 
 Else I should slip and fall from rugged ways, 
 Too badly bruised to ever mount again.' 
 Then she : 
 
 " ' O Paul, if wealth were mine to give ! 
 O if my father could but know my heart ! 
 But fear not, Paul, our Father reigns in Heaven. 
 Follow your bent 'twill lead you out aright ; 
 The highest mountain lessens as we climb ; 
 Persistent courage wins the smile of fate. 
 Apply yourself to law and master it,
 
 7 6 PAULINE. 
 
 And I will wait. This sad and solemn hour 
 Is dark with doubt and gloom, but by and by 
 The clouds will lift and you will see God's face. 
 For there is one in Heaven whose pleading tongue 
 Will pray for blessings on her only son 
 Of Him who heeds the little sparrow's fall ; 
 And O if He will listen to my prayers, 
 The gates of Heaven shall echo to my voice 
 Morning and evening, only keep your heart.' 
 I said : 
 
 " Pauline, your prayers had rolled away 
 The solid stone that close the tomb of Christ ; 
 And while they rise to heaven for my success 
 I cannot doubt, or I should doubt my God. 
 I think I see a pathway through this gloom ; 
 I have a kinsman and I told her where, 
 A lawyer ; I have heard my mother say 
 A self-made man with charitable heart ; 
 And I might go and study under him ; 
 I think he would assist me.'
 
 PA ULINE. 7 7 
 
 " Then she sighed : 
 
 ' Paul, can you leave me? You may study here ; 
 And here you are among your boyhood friends, 
 And here I should be near to cheer you on.' 
 
 " I promised her that I would think of it, 
 Would see what prospect offered in the town ; 
 And then we walked together half-embraced, 
 But when we neared her vine-arched garden gate, 
 She bade me stay and kissed me a good-night, 
 And bounded through the moonlight like a fawn. 
 I watched her till she flitted from my sight, 
 Then slowly homeward turned my lingering steps. 
 I wrote my kinsman on the morrow morn, 
 And broached my project to a worthy man 
 Who kept an office and a case of books 
 An honest lawyer. People called him learn'd, 
 But wanting tact and ready speech he failed. 
 The rest were pettifoggers, scurrilous rogues 
 Who plied the village justice with their lies, 
 And garbled law to suit the case in hand ; 
 Mean, querulous, small-brained delvers in the mire
 
 7 3 PAULINE. 
 
 Of men's misfortunes crafty, cunning knaves, 
 
 Bearing the title ' Counsellor] that schemed 
 
 To keep the evil natures of bad men 
 
 In petty wars, and plied their tongues profane 
 
 With cunning words to argue honest fools 
 
 Into their silken meshes to be fleeced. 
 
 I laid my case before him ; took advice 
 
 Well-meant advice to leave my native town 
 
 And study with my kinsman whom he knew. 
 
 A week rolled round and brought me a reply 
 
 A frank and kindly letter giving me 
 
 That which I needed most encouragement. 
 
 But hard it was to fix my mind to go ; 
 
 For in my heart an angel whispered ' stay.' 
 
 It might be better for my after years, 
 
 And yet perhaps, 'twere better to remain. 
 
 I balanced betwixt my reason and my heart, 
 
 And hesitated. Her I had not seen 
 
 Since that sad night, and so I made resolve 
 
 That we should meet and at her father's house. 
 
 I whispered courage to my boyish heart 
 
 And went. With happy greetings at the door 
 
 She met me, but she looked so wan, so pale,
 
 PAULINE. 79 
 
 So worn with care I feared that she was ill. 
 I read the letter to her, and she sighed, 
 And sat in silence for a little time, 
 Then said : 
 
 " ' God bless yQu, Paul, may be 'tis best, 
 I sometimes feel it is not for the best, 
 But I am selfish thinking of myself. 
 Go like a man, but keep your boyish heart, 
 Your boyish heart is all the world to me. 
 Remember, Paul, how I shall watch and wait ; 
 O write me often ; like the dew of heaven 
 
 * 
 
 To withering flowers will come your cheering words. 
 To know that you are well and happy, Paul, 
 And good and true, will wing the weary days. 
 And let me beg you as a sister would, 
 Not that I doubt you, but because I love, 
 Beware of wine, touch not the treacherous cup, 
 And guard your honor as you guard your life. 
 The years will glide away like scudding clouds 
 That fleetly chase each other o'er the hills, 
 And you will be a man before you know,
 
 8o PA ULINE. 
 
 And I shall be a woman. God will crown 
 Our dearest hopes if we but trust in Him.' 
 
 " We sat in silence for a little time, 
 And she was weeping, so I raised her face 
 And kissed away her tears. She softly said: 
 ' Paul, there is something I must say to you, 
 Something I have no time to tell you now ; 
 But we must meet again before you go 
 Beneath the pines where we so oft have met. 
 Be this the sign,' (She waved her graceful hand) 
 ' Come when the weary world has gone to rest 
 And silent stars stand sentinel in heaven ; 
 Now Paul, forgive me, I must go, good-bye.' 
 
 " I read her fear upon her anxious brow, 
 But clasped her in my arms with fond embrace, 
 And gazed into the depths of her blue eyes. 
 Just then her frowning father blustered in, 
 And caught us blushing in each others arms. 
 He stood a moment silent and amazed :
 
 PAULINE. 8 1 
 
 Then kindling wrath distorted all his face, 
 He showered his anger with a tongue of fire. 
 O cruel words that stung my boyish pride ! 
 
 barbed words that pierced my very soul ! 
 
 1 strove, but fury mastered, up I leaped, 
 And felt a giant as I stood before him. 
 
 My breath was hot with anger ; impious boy, 
 Frenzied, forgetful of his silvered hairs, 
 Forgetful of her presence, too, I raved, 
 And poured a madman's curses on his head. 
 A moan of anguish brought me to myself, 
 And, as I turned and saw her saddened face. 
 Tears quenched the raging fury in my heart. 
 I kissed her hand and passed into the hall, 
 While she stood sobbing in a flood of tears, 
 And he stood choked with anger and amazed. 
 Then as I passed the outer door he came 
 With bated breath and muttered in my ear 
 ' Beggar /' It stung me like a serpent's fang. 
 Pride-pricked and muttering like a maniac, 
 I almost flew the street and hurried home 
 To vent my anger to the silent elms. 
 ' Beggar ! ' an hundred times that frenzied night
 
 82 PAULINE. 
 
 I muttered with hot lips and burning breath ; 
 I paced the walk with hurried tread and raved ; 
 I threw myself beneath the willow-tree, 
 And muttered like the muttering of a storm. 
 My little lamb came bleating mournfully ; 
 Angered I struck him ; out among the trees 
 I wandered mumbling ' beggar' as I went, 
 And beating in through all my burning soul 
 The bitter thoughts it conjured, till my brain 
 Reeled and I sunk upon the dew-damp grass, 
 And utterly exhausted slept till morn. 
 
 " I dreamed a dream all myth and mystery. 
 
 I saw a sunlit valley beautiful 
 
 With purple vineyards and with garden-plats ; 
 
 And in the vineyards and the garden -plats 
 
 Were happy-hearted youths and merry girls 
 
 Toiling and singing. Grandsires too were there, 
 
 Sitting contented under their own vines 
 
 And fig-trees, while about them merrily played 
 
 Their children's children like the sportive lambs 
 
 That frolicked on the foot-hills. Low of kine,
 
 PA ULINE. 83 
 
 Full-uddered, homeward-wending from the meads, 
 Fell on the ear as soft as Hulder's loor 
 Tuned on the Norse-land mountains. Like a nest 
 Hid in a hawthorn-hedge a cottage stood 
 Embowered with vines beneath broad-branching 
 
 elms 
 Sweet-voiced with busy bees. 
 
 " On either hand 
 
 Rose steep and barren mountains mighty cliffs 
 Cragged and chasm'd and over-grown with thorns ; 
 And on the topmost peak a golden throne 
 Blazoned with burning characters which read 
 ' Climb ! it is yours' Not far above the vale 
 I saw a youth fair-browed and raven-haired 
 Clambering among the thorns and ragged rocks ; 
 And from his brow with torn and bleeding hand 
 He wiped great drops of sweat. Down through the 
 
 vale 
 
 I saw a rapid river, broad and deep, 
 Winding in solemn silence to the sea, 
 The sea all mist and fog. Lo, as I stood
 
 84 PA ULINE. 
 
 Viewing the river and the moaning sea, 
 
 A sail and then another flitted down 
 
 And plunged into the mist. A moment more, 
 
 Like shapeless shadows of the by-gone years, 
 
 I saw them in the mist and they were gone, 
 
 Gone, and the sea moaned on and seemed to say 
 
 ' Gone and forever /' So I gladly turned 
 
 To look upon the throne the blazoned throne 
 
 That sat upon the everlasting cliff. 
 
 The throne had vanished! Lo, where it had stood, 
 
 A bed of ashes and a gray-haired man 
 
 Sitting upon it bowed and broken down. 
 
 And so the vision passed. 
 
 " The rising sun 
 
 Beamed full upon my face and wakened me, 
 And there beside me lay my pet the lamb 
 Gazing upon me with wondrous eyes, 
 And all the fields were bright and beautiful, 
 And brighter seemed the world. I rose resolved. 
 I let the cottage and disposed of all ; 
 The lamb went bleating to a neighbor's field ;
 
 PA ULINE. 85 
 
 And oft my heart ached, but I mastered it. 
 This was the constant burden of my brain, 
 ' Beggar /' I'll teach him that I am a man ; 
 I'll speak and he shall listen ; I will rise, 
 And he shall see my course as I go up 
 Round after round the ladder of success. 
 Even as the pine upon the mountain-top 
 Towers o'er the maple on the mountain-side, 
 I'll tower above him. Then will I look down 
 And call him FatJicr ; He shall call me Son. 
 
 " Thus hushing my sad heart the day drew nigh 
 Of parting and the promised sign was given. 
 The night was dismal darkness, not one star 
 Twinkled in heaven ; the sad, low-moaning wind 
 Played like a mournful harp among the pines. 
 I groped and listened through the darkling grove, 
 Peering with eager eyes among the trees, 
 And calling as I peered with anxious voice 
 One darling name. No answer but the moan ' 
 Of the wind-shaken pines. I sat me down 
 Under the dusky shadows waiting for her,
 
 86 PA ULINE. 
 
 And lost myself in gloomy reverie. 
 
 Dim in the darkling shadows of the night, 
 
 While thus I dreamed, my darling came and crept 
 
 Beneath the boughs as softly as a hare, 
 
 And whispered ' Paul ' and I was at her side. 
 
 We sat upon a mound moss-carpeted, 
 
 No eyes but God's upon us, and no voice 
 
 Spake to us save the moaning of the pines. 
 
 Few were the words we spoke ; our silent tears, 
 
 Our trembling, lingering, mutual embrace, 
 
 Were more than words. Into one anxious hour, 
 
 Were pressed the hopes and bitter dread of years. 
 
 Two trusting hearts that only dared to hope 
 
 There swelled and throbbed to the electric touch 
 
 Of love as holy as the love of Christ. 
 
 She gave her picture and I gave a ring 
 
 My mother's, almost with her latest breath 
 
 She gave it me and breathed my darling's name. 
 
 I girt her finger, and she kissed the ring 
 
 In solemn pledge, and said : 
 
 " ' I bring a gift 
 The priceless gift of God to sorrowing souls:
 
 PA ULINE, 
 
 O may it prove a precious gift to you, 
 As it has proved a precious gift to me ; 
 And promise me to read it day by day, 
 Beginning on the morrow every day 
 A chapter and I too will read the same.' 
 
 " I took the gift a precious gift indeed, 
 And you may see how I have treasured it. 
 Here, Captain, put your hand upon my breast, 
 An inner pocket, you will find it there. 
 
 I opened the bloody blouse and thence drew forth 
 
 The Book of Christ all stained with Christian blood. 
 
 He laid his hand upon the holy book, 
 
 And closed his eyes as if in silent prayer. 
 
 I held his weary head and bade him rest. 
 
 He lay a moment silent and resumed : 
 
 " Let me go on if you would hear the tale ; 
 
 I soon shall sleep to wake and speak no more. 
 
 O there were promises and vows as solemn 
 
 As Christ's own promises ; but as we sat
 
 88 PA ULINE. 
 
 The pattering rain-drops fell among the pines, 
 And in the branches the foreboding owl 
 With dismal hooting hailed the coming storm. 
 So in that dreary hour and desolate 
 We parted in the silence of our tears. 
 
 " And on the morrow morn I bade adieu 
 
 To the old cottage home I loved so well. 
 
 Then from my mother's grave I plucked a rose 
 
 Bursting in bloom, Pauline had planted it, 
 
 And left my little hill-girt boyhood world. 
 
 I journeyed eastward to my journey's end ; 
 
 At first by rail for many a flying mile, 
 
 By mail-coach thence from where the hurrying train 
 
 Leaps o'er a river that goes tumbling on 
 
 Between a village and a mountain-ledge, 
 
 Chafing its rocky banks. There seeths and foams 
 
 The restless river round the roaring rocks,' 
 
 And then flows on a little way and pours 
 
 Its laughing waters into a bridal lap. 
 
 Its flood is fountain-fed among the hills ; 
 
 Far up the mossy brooks the timid trout
 
 PA ULINE. 89 
 
 Lie in the shadows of vine-tangled elms. 
 
 Out from the village-green the roadway leads 
 
 Along the river up between the hills, 
 
 Then climbs a wooded mountain to its top, 
 
 And gently winds adown the farther side 
 
 Unto a valley where the bridal stream 
 
 Flows rippling, meadow-flower-and-willow-fringed, 
 
 And dancing onward with a merry song, 
 
 Hastes to the nuptials. From the mountain-top 
 
 A thousand feet above the meadowy vale 
 
 She seems a chain of fretted silver wound 
 
 With artless art among the emerald hills. 
 
 Thence up a winding valley of grand views, 
 
 Hill-guarded, firs and rocks upon the hills, 
 
 And here and there a solitary pine, 
 
 Majestic silent mourns its slaughtered kin, 
 
 Like the last warrior of some tawny tribe 
 
 Returned from sun-set mountains to behold 
 
 Once more the spot where his brave kindred sleep 
 
 The farms along the valley stretch away 
 
 On either hand upon the rugged hills 
 
 Walled into fields. Tall elms and willow-trees, 
 
 Huge-trunked and ivy-hung stand sentinel
 
 9 o PA ULINE. 
 
 Along the roadway walls, storm-wrinkled trees 
 
 Planted by men who slumber on the hills. 
 
 Amid such scenes all day we rolled along, 
 
 And as the shadows of the western hills 
 
 Across the valley crept and climbed the slopes 
 
 The sun-set blazed their hazy tops and fell 
 
 Upon the emerald like a mist of gold. 
 
 And at that hour I reached my journey's end. 
 
 The village is a gem among the hills 
 
 Tall, towering hills that reach into the blue. 
 
 One grand old mountain-cone looms on the left 
 
 Far up toward heaven, and all around are hills. 
 
 The river winds among the leafy hills 
 
 Adown the meadowy dale ; a shade of elms 
 
 And willows fringe it. In this lap of hills 
 
 Cluster the happy homes of men content 
 
 To let the great world bustle as it will. 
 
 The court-honse park, the broad, delightful streets 
 
 Are avenues of maples and of elms 
 
 Grander than Tadmor's pillared avenue 
 
 Through which the proud Zenobia's legions poured 
 
 To meet the Romans on the desert-plain. 
 
 Beautiful villas, tidy cottages,
 
 PAULINE. 91 
 
 Flower-gardens, fountains, offices and shops 
 All nestle in a dreamy wealth of woods. 
 
 " Kind hearts received me. All that wealth could 
 
 bring 
 
 Refinement, luxury and ease was theirs ; 
 But I was proud and felt my poverty, 
 And gladly mured myself among the books 
 To master ' the lawless science of law/ 
 I waded through the dry and heavy tomes 
 Some musty with the mildew of old age ; 
 And these I found the better for their years, 
 Like olden wine from cobweb-covered casks. 
 The blush of sunrise found me at my books; 
 The midnight cock-crow caught me reading still ; 
 And oft my worthy master censured me; 
 ' A time for work,' he said, ' a time for play ; 
 Unbend the bow or else the bow will break.' 
 But when I wearied needing sleep and rest 
 A single word seemed whispered in my ear 
 ' B e gg ar l it stung me to re-doubled toil. 
 I trode the oft-times mazy labyrinths
 
 92 PAULINE. 
 
 Of legal logic, mined the mountain-mass 
 
 Of precedents conflicting, found the rule, 
 
 Then branched into the exceptions ; split the hair 
 
 Betwixt this case and that, ran parallels, 
 
 Traced from a ' leading case' through many tomes 
 
 Back to the first decision on the ' point,' 
 
 And often found a pyramid of law 
 
 Built with bad logic on a broken base 
 
 Of careless ' dicta ; ' saw how narrow minds 
 
 Spun out the web of technicalities 
 
 Till common sense and common equity 
 
 Were smothered in its meshes. Here and there 
 
 I came upon a broad, unfettered mind 
 
 Like Murray's cleaving through the spider-webs 
 
 Of shallower brains, and bravely pushing out 
 
 Upon the open sea of common sense. 
 
 But such were rare. The olden precedents 
 
 Oft stepping-stones of tyranny and wrong 
 
 Marked easy paths to follow, and they ruled 
 
 The course of reason as the iron rails 
 
 Rule the swift wheels of the down-thundering train.
 
 PA ULINE. 93 
 
 " I rose at dawn. First in this holy book 
 
 I read my chapter. How the happy thought 
 
 That my Pauline would read the self-same morn 
 
 The self-same chapter gave the sacred text, 
 
 Though I had heard my mother read it oft, 
 
 New light and import never seen before. 
 
 For I would ponder over every verse, 
 
 Because I felt that she was reading it, 
 
 And when I came upon dear promises 
 
 Of Christ to man, I read them o'er and o'er, 
 
 Till in a holy and mysterious way 
 
 They seemed the whisperings of Pauline to me. 
 
 Later I learned to lay up for myself 
 
 ' Treasures in heaven where neither moth nor rust 
 
 Corrupteth, and where thieves do not break through, 
 
 Nor steal' and where my treasures all are laid 
 
 My heart is, and my spirit longs to go. 
 
 O friend, if Jesus was but man of man, 
 
 And if indeed his mighty miracles 
 
 Were mythic tales of priestly followers 
 
 To chain the brute till Reason came from Heaven, 
 
 Yet was his mission unto man divine. 
 
 Man's pity wounds, but Jesus' pity heals.
 
 94 PA ULINE. 
 
 He taught us love above the low desires, 
 He taught us hope beyond all earthly hope,- 
 He taught us charity wherewith to build 
 From out the broken walls of barbarism, 
 The holy temple of the perfect man. 
 
 " On every Sabbath-eve I wrote Pauline. 
 Page after page was burdened with my love, 
 My glowing hopes of golden days to come, 
 And frequent boast of rapid progress made. 
 With hungry heart and eager I devoured 
 Her letters ; I re-read them twenty times. 
 At morning when I laid the Gospel down 
 I read her latest answer, and again 
 At midnight by my lamp I read it o'er, 
 And murmuring ' God bless her,' fell asleep 
 To dream that I was with her under the pines. 
 
 " Thus fled four years four years of patient toil 
 Sweetened with love and hope, and I had made 
 Swift progress in my studies. Master said
 
 PA ULINE. 95 
 
 Another year should bring me to the bar, 
 
 No fledgeling but full-feathered for the field. 
 
 And then her letters ceased. I wrote and wrote 
 
 Again, but still.no answer. Day after day 
 
 The tardy mail-coach lagged a mortal hour, 
 
 As I sat listening for its welcome horn ; 
 
 And when it came I hastened from my books 
 
 While hope and fear contended ; but, alas, 
 
 Day after day, no answer, back again 
 
 I turned my footsteps with a weary sigh. 
 
 It wore upon me and I found no rest. 
 
 The heavy tomes grew dull and wearisome, 
 
 And sometimes hateful ; then I broke away 
 
 As from a prison and rushed wildly out 
 
 Among the elms along the river-bank, 
 
 Baring my burning temples to the breeze, 
 
 And drank the air of heaven like sparkling wine, 
 
 Conjuring excuses for her; was she ill? 
 
 Perhaps forbidden. Had another heart 
 
 Come in between us ? No, that could not be ; 
 
 She was all constancy and promise-bound. 
 
 A month, which seemed to me a laggard year, 
 
 Thus wore away, At last a letter came.
 
 f)6 PA ULINE. 
 
 With what elastic step I hurried back 
 Back to my private chamber and my desk ! 
 With what delight what eager, trembling hand 
 The well known seal that held my hopes I broke ! 
 Thus ran the letter : 
 
 " ' Paul the time has come 
 When we must both forgive while we forget 
 Each other and our artless early love. 
 Mine was a girlish fancy. We out-grow 
 Such childish follies in our later years. 
 I hope you will not take it as offence, 
 But I have pondered well and made an end. 
 I cannot wed myself to want, and curse 
 My after-life, because a girlish freak 
 Of folly made a promise. So, farewell.' 
 
 " My eyes were blind with passion as I read. 
 I tore the letter into bits and tramped 
 Upon them, ground my teeth and cursed the day 
 I met her to be jilted. All that night
 
 PAULINE. 97 
 
 My thoughts ran riot. Round the room I strode, 
 At times as savage as a painted Sioux ; 
 Then flung myself upon my couch in tears, 
 And wept in silence, and then stormed again. - 
 Beggar ! ' it raised the serpent in my breast- 
 Mad pride bat-blind. I seized her pictured face 
 And ground it under my heel. With impious hand 
 I caught the book the precious gift she gave, 
 And would have burned it, but that still small voice 
 Spake in my heart and bade me spare the book. 
 
 " Then with this Gospel clutched in both my hands, 
 
 I swore a solemn oath that I would rise, 
 
 If God would spare me ; she should see me rise, 
 
 And learn what she had lost. Yes, I would mount 
 
 Merely to be revenged. I would not cringe 
 
 Down like a spaniel underneath the lash, 
 
 But like a man would teach my proud Pauline 
 
 And her hard father to repent the day 
 
 They called me ' beggar' Thus I raved and stormed 
 
 That mad night out ; forgot at dawn of morn 
 
 This holy book, but fell to a huge tome
 
 9 8 PA ULINE. 
 
 And read two hundred pages in a day. 
 
 I could not keep the thread of argument ; 
 
 I could not hold my mind upon the book ; 
 
 I could not break the silent under-tow 
 
 That swept all else from out my dreamy brain 
 
 But false Pauline. I read from morn till night, 
 
 But having closed the book I could not tell 
 
 Aught of its contents. Then I cursed myself, 
 
 And muttered ' Fool, can you not shake it off 
 
 This nightmare of your boyhood? Brave, indeed, 
 
 Crushed like a spaniel by this false Pauline ! 
 
 Crushed am I ? By the gods, I'll make an end, 
 
 And she shall never know it nettled me ! ' 
 
 So passed the weary days. My cheeks gretv thin ; 
 
 I needed rest I said, and left my books 
 
 To range the fields and hills with fowling-piece 
 
 And ' mal prepense against the feathery flocks. 
 
 The. pigeons flew from tree-tops o'er my head ; 
 
 I heard the flap of wings and they were gone ; 
 
 The pheasant whizzed from bushes at my feet 
 
 Unseen until its sudden whiz and whir 
 
 Startled and broke my wandering reverie ; 
 
 And then I whistled and relapsed to dreams,
 
 PA ULINE. 99 
 
 Wandering I cared not whither, wheresoe'er 
 My silent gun still bore its primal charge. 
 So gameless, but with cheeks and forehead tinged 
 By breeze and sun-shine, I returned to books. 
 But still a phantom haunted all my dreams, 
 Awake or sleeping, for awake I dreamed, 
 A spectre that I could not chase away 
 The phantom-form of my own false Pauline. 
 
 " Six months wore off six long and weary months ; 
 
 Then came a letter from a school-boy friend, 
 
 In answer to the queries I had made, 
 
 Filled with the gossip of my native town. 
 
 Unto her father's friend a bachelor, 
 
 Her senior by full twenty years at least 
 
 Dame Rumor said Pauline had pledged her hand. 
 
 I knew him well a sly and cunning man, 
 
 A honey-tongued, false-hearted flatterer. 
 
 And he my rival carrying off my prize ? 
 
 Ah, there were more than seven wonders sure ! 
 
 But what cared I ? 'twas all the same to me, 
 
 Yea, better for the sweet revenge to come.
 
 ioo PAULINE. 
 
 So whispered pride, but in my secret heart 
 I cared, and hoped whatever came to pass 
 She might be happy all her days on earth, 
 And find a happy haven at the end. 
 
 " My thoughtful master bade me quit my books 
 A month at least, for I was wearing out 
 Much faster than I knew. His watchful eye 
 Saw toil and care at work upon my cheeks, 
 And he had seen law-students wear away 
 With over-work the vigor of their lives. 
 And so he gave me means and bade me go 
 To romp a month among my native hills. 
 I went, but not as I had left my home 
 A bashful boy, uncouth and coarsely clad, 
 But clothed and mannered like a gentleman. 
 
 " My school-boy friend gave me a cordial greeting ; 
 That honest lawyer bade me welcome, too, 
 And doted on my progress and the advice 
 He gave me ere I left my native town.
 
 PAULINE. 10 1 
 
 Since first the iron-horse had coursed the vale 
 
 Five years had fled five prosperous, magic years, 
 
 And well nigh five since I had left my home. 
 
 These magic years had wrought upon the place 
 
 Their wonders till I hardly knew the town. 
 
 The broad and stately blocks of brick that shamed 
 
 The weather-beaten wooden shops I knew 
 
 Seemed the creation of some magic hand. 
 
 Adown the river bank the town had stretched, 
 
 Sweeping away the quiet grove of pines 
 
 Where I had loved to ramble when a boy 
 
 And see the squirrels leap from tree to tree 
 
 With reckless venture, hazarding a fall 
 
 To dodge the ill-aimed arrows from my bow. 
 
 The dear old school-house on the hill was gone : 
 
 A costly church, tall-spired and built of stone, 
 
 Stood in its stead a monument to man. 
 
 The stately pines had fallen by the axe, 
 
 And all the slope was bare' and desolate. 
 
 Old faces had grown older ; some were gone, 
 
 And many unfamiliar ones had come. 
 
 Boys in their teens had grown to bearded men, 
 
 And -girls to womanhood, and all was changed,
 
 102 PAULINE. 
 
 Save the old cottage-home where I was born. 
 The elms and butternuts in the meadow-field 
 Still wore the features of familiar friends ;. 
 The English ivy clambered to the roof, 
 The golden willow spread its branches still, 
 And as I stood before- the cottage-door 
 My heart-pulse quickened for methought I heard 
 My mother's foot-steps on the ashen floor. 
 
 " The rumor I had heard was verified ; 
 The wedding-day was named and near at hand. 
 I saw my rival with his smirks and smiles 
 Glad as a boy that robs the robin's nest 
 Grasping the hands of half the men he met. 
 Pauline, I heard, but seldom ventured forth ; 
 Of late ill health her rosy cheeks had paled. 
 To church she went on every sabbath-morn ; 
 On other days she mured herself at home, 
 Save when her doting father took her out 
 Like some frail flower to breathe the balmy air. 
 And let the sunbeams kiss her fading cheeks. 
 The smooth-faced suitor, old dame Gossip said,-
 
 PAULINE. 103 
 
 Made daily visits to her father's house, 
 And played the boy at forty years or more, 
 While she had held him off to draw him on. 
 
 " I would not fawn upon the hand that smote, 
 
 I would not cringe beneath its cruel blow, 
 
 Nor even let her know I cared for it. 
 
 I kept aloof as proud as Lucifer ; 
 
 But when the church-bells chimed on Sabbath morn, 
 
 To that proud monument of stone I went, 
 
 Her father's pride, since he had led the list 
 
 Of wealthy patrons who had builded it, 
 
 To hear the sermon, for methought Pauline 
 
 Would hear it too. Might I not see her face, 
 
 And she not know I cared to look upon it ? 
 
 She came not, and the psalms and sermon fell 
 
 Upon me like an autumn-mist of rain. 
 
 I met her once by chance upon the street 
 
 The day before the appointed wedding-day 
 
 Her and her father, she upon his arm. 
 
 ' Paul O Paul ! ' she said and gave her hand. 
 
 I took it with a cold and careless air,
 
 104 PAULINE, 
 
 Begged pardon, had forgotten, ah Pauline ? 
 Yes, I remembered ; five long years ago, 
 And I had made so many later friends, 
 And she had lost so much of maiden bloom ! 
 Then turning met her father face to face, 
 Bowed with cold grace, and haughtily passed on. 
 ' This is revenge,' I muttered. Even then 
 My heart ached as I thought of her pale face, 
 Her pleading eyes, her trembling, clasping hand ! 
 And then and there I would have turned about 
 To beg her pardon and an interview, 
 But pride that serpent ever in my heart 
 Hissed ' beggar? and I cursed her with the lips 
 That oft had poured my love into her ears. 
 ' She marries gold to-morrow, let her wed ! 
 She will not wed a beggar, but I think 
 She'll wed a life long sorrow, let her wed ! 
 Aye aye, I hope she'll curse the fatal day 
 Whereon she broke her sacred promises. 
 And I forgive her? yea, but not forget. 
 I'll take good care that she shall not forget ; 
 I'll prick her memory with a bitter thorn 
 Through all her future. Let her marry gold ! '
 
 PAULINE. 105 
 
 Thus ran my muttered words, but in my heart 
 There ran a counter-current ; ere I slept 
 Its silent under-tow had mastered all 
 ' Forgive and be forgiven.' I resolved 
 That on the morning of her wedding-day 
 Would I go kindly and forgive Pauline, 
 And send her to the altar with my blessing. 
 That night I read a chapter in this book 
 The first for many months, and fell asleep 
 Beseeching God to bless her. 
 
 " Then I dreamed 
 
 That we were kneeling at my mother's bed 
 Her death-bed, and the feeble, trembling hands 
 Of her who loved us rested on our heads, 
 And in a voice all tremulous with tears 
 My mother said : ' Dear children, love each other ; 
 Bear and forbear, and come to me in Heaven.' 
 
 " I wakened once at midnight, a wild cry 
 
 ' Paul, O Paul T rang through my dreams and broke
 
 106 PAULINE. 
 
 My slumber. I arose, but all was still, 
 
 And then I slept again and dreamed till morn. 
 
 In all my dreams her dear, sweet face appeared, 
 
 Now radiant as a star, and now all pale, 
 
 Now glad with smiles and now all wet with tears. 
 
 Then came a dream that agonized my soul, 
 
 While every limb was bound as if in chains. 
 
 Methought I saw her in the silent night 
 
 O'er misty waters leaning dark and deep : 
 
 A moan, a plash of waters, and O Christ ! 
 
 Her agonized face upturned, imploring hands 
 
 Stretched out toward me, and a wailing cry 
 
 ' Paul, O Paul ! ' Then head and hands went down 
 
 And o'er her closed the deep and dismal flood 
 
 Forever, but it could not drown the cry : 
 
 ' Paul, O Paul /' was ringing in my ears ; 
 
 ' Paul, O Paul ! ' was throbbing in my heart ; 
 
 And thrilling, chilling in my shuddering soul 
 
 Trembled the agonized wailing ' Paul, O Paul ! ' 
 
 " Then o'er the waters stole the silver dawn, 
 And lo a fairy-boat with silken sail !
 
 PAULINE. 107 
 
 And in the boat an angel at the helm, 
 
 And at her feet the form of her I loved. 
 
 The white mists parted as the boat sped on 
 
 In silence, lessening far and far away. 
 
 And then the sun-rise glimmered on the sail 
 
 A moment, and the angel turned her face 
 
 And beckoned me with outstretched hand to come ; 
 
 My mother ! and I gave a joyful cry, 
 
 And stretched my hands, but lo, the hovering mists 
 
 Closed in around them, and the vision passed. 
 
 " The morning sun stole through the window-blinds 
 
 And fell upon my face and wakened me, 
 
 And I lay musing thinking of Pauline. 
 
 Yes, she should know the depths of all my heart, 
 
 The love I bore her all those lonely years ; 
 
 The hope that held me steadfast in my toil, 
 
 And feel the higher and the holier love 
 
 Her precious gift had wakened in my soul. 
 
 Yea, I would bless her for that precious gift x 
 
 I had not known its treasures ( but for her, 
 
 And O for that would I forgive her all,
 
 108 PA ULINE. 
 
 And bless the hand that broke the sacred pledge. 
 
 That would be comfort to me all my days, 
 
 And if there came a bitter time to her, 
 
 ' Twould pain her less to know that I forgave. 
 
 A hasty rapping on my chamber-door 
 
 Broke of a sudden on my musing mood ; 
 
 In came my school-boy friend whose guest I was, 
 
 And said : 
 
 " ' Come, Paul, the town is all ablaze ! 
 A sad, a strange, a marvelous suicide ! 
 Pauline, who was to be a bride to-day, 
 Was missed at dawn and ere the sunrise found 
 Traced by her shawl and bonnet on the bridge, 
 Whence she had thrown herself and made an end ' 
 
 " And he went on, but I could hear no more ; 
 
 It fell upon me like a flash from heaven. 
 
 As one with sudden terror dumb, I turned 
 
 And in my pillow buried up my face. 
 
 Tears came at last, and then my friend passed out
 
 PAULINE. 109 
 
 In silence. O the agony of that hour! 
 O doubts and fears and half-read mysteries 
 That tore my heart and tortured all my soul ! 
 
 " I arose. About the town the wildest tales 
 
 And rumors ran ; dame Gossip was agog. 
 
 Some said she had been ill and lost her mind, 
 
 (Such was the tale her stricken father told) 
 
 Some whispered hints, and others shook their heads ; 
 
 But none could fathom the marvelous mystery. 
 
 Bearing a bitter anguish in my heart, 
 
 Half-crazed with doubts and fears, and all at sea, 
 
 Hour after hour alone, disconsolate, 
 
 Among the scenes where we had wandered oft 
 
 I wandered, sat where towered the clustered pines, 
 
 The sacred temple where we learned to love 
 
 In by-gone days, the temple rent and fall'n, 
 
 Its sacred floor with wild weeds over-grown 
 
 And bramble-hidden. O how sad, how changed ! 
 
 Yet chiefly wanting one dear, blushing face, 
 
 Which, in those happy days, made every spot 
 
 Wherever we might wander hill or dale
 
 HO PAULINE. 
 
 Picture of peace and love and happiness. 
 So weary-hearted I returned. My friend 
 Had brought for me a letter with his mail. 
 I knew the hand upon the envelope, 
 With throbbing heart I hastened to my room ; 
 With trembling hands I broke the seal and read. 
 One sheet enclosed another, one was writ 
 At midnight by my loved and lost Pauline. 
 Inclosed within, a letter false and forged, 
 Signed with my name such perfect counterfeit, 
 At sight I would have sworn it was my own. 
 And thus her letter ran : 
 
 " ' Beloved Paul, 
 
 May God forgive you as my heart forgives. 
 Even as a vine that winds about an oak, 
 Rot-struck and hollow-hearted, for support, 
 Clasping the sapless branches as it climbs 
 With tender tendrils and undoubting faith, 
 I leaned upon your troth ; nay, all my hopes,- 
 My love, my life, my very hope of Heaven 
 I staked upon your solemn promises.
 
 PAULINE. Ill 
 
 I learned to love you better than my God ; 
 My God hath sent me bitter punishment. 
 
 broken pledges ! what have I to live 
 And suffer for? Half mad in my distress, 
 Yielding at last to father's oft request, 
 
 1 pledged my hand to one whose very love 
 Would be a curse upon me all my days. 
 To-morrow is the promised wedding day ; 
 
 rather let to-morrow never come ! 
 
 Come gladlier, death, and make an end of all ! 
 How many weary days and patiently 
 
 1 waited for a letter, and at last 
 
 It came a message crueler than death. 
 
 O take it back ! and if you have a heart 
 
 Yet warm to pity her you swore to love, 
 
 Read it and think of those dear promises 
 
 O sacred as the Saviour's promises 
 
 You whispered in my ear that solemn night 
 
 Beneath the pines, and kissed away my tears. 
 
 And know that I forgive, beloved Paul : 
 
 Meet me in Heaven. God will not frown upon 
 
 The sin that saves me from a greater sin, 
 
 And sends my weary soul to Him. Farewell.' ''
 
 112 PAULINE. 
 
 Here he broke down and wept. Unto his lips 
 I held a flask of wine. He tasted it, 
 And closed his eyes in silence for a time, 
 Resuming thus: 
 
 " You see the wicked plot. 
 We both were victims of a crafty scheme 
 To break our hearts asunder. Forgery 
 Had done its work and pride had aided it. 
 The forged letter was a cruel one 
 Casting her off with utter heartlessness, 
 And boasting of a later, dearer love, 
 And begging her to burn the billets-doux 
 A moon-struck boy had sent her ere he found 
 That pretty girls are plenty in the world. 
 
 " Think you my soul was roiled with anger? No ; 
 God's hand was on my head. A keen remorse 
 Gnawed at my heart. O false and fatal pride 
 That blinded me, else I had seen the plot 
 Ere all was lost, else I had saved a life
 
 PA ULINE. I ] 
 
 To me most precious of all lives on earth, 
 
 Yea, dearer then than any soul in heaven ! 
 
 False pride, the ruin of unnumbered souls 
 
 Thou art the serpent ever tempting me : 
 
 God, chastening me, has bruised thy serpent-head. 
 
 O faithful heart in silence suffering, 
 
 True unto death to one she could but count 
 
 A perjured villain, cheated as she was ! 
 
 Captain, I prayed, 'twas all that I could do. 
 
 God heard my prayer ; and with a solemn heart, 
 
 Bearing the letters in my hand, I went 
 
 To ask a favor of the man who crushed 
 
 And cursed my life, to look upon her face, 
 
 Only to look on her dear face once more. 
 
 " I rung the bell, a servant bade me in. 
 I waited long. At last the father came 
 All pale and suffering. I could see remorse 
 Engraven on his face ; as I arose 
 He trembled like a culprit on the drop. 
 ' O, Sir,' he said, 'whatever be your quest, 
 I pray you leave me with my dead to-day ;
 
 1*4 PAULINE. 
 
 I cannot look on any living face 
 
 Till her dead face is gone forevermore, 
 
 So bitter is my sorrow.' 
 
 "'Ah!' I said, 
 
 ' It must be bitter mingled with remorse ! ' 
 ' Explain,' he faltered. ' Pray you, sir, explain ! ' 
 I said, and thrust the letters in his hand. 
 And as he sat in silence reading hers, 
 I saw the pangs of conscience on his face ; 
 I saw him tremble like a striken soul ; 
 And then a tear-drop fell upon his hand ; 
 And there we sat in silence. Then he groaned 
 And fell upon his knees and hid his face, 
 And stretched his hand toward me wailing out 
 ' O Paul ! O God ! forgive me ! it was I ! ' 
 
 " His anguish touched my heart. I took his hand, 
 And kneeling by him prayed a solemn prayer 
 ' Father, forgive him, for he knew not what 
 He did who broke the bond that bound us twain.
 
 PAULINE. H5 
 
 Let not the dead face of his darling child 
 With sad reproach break in upon his dreams, 
 But rather send her happy spirit oft 
 To whisper ' God is love and all is well.' 
 
 " The iron man all bowed and broken down 
 Sobbed like a child. He laid his trembling hand 
 With many a fervent blessing on my head, 
 And, with the crust all crumbled from his heart, 
 Arose and led me to her silent couch ; 
 And I looked in upon my darling dead. 
 Mine, O mine in Heaven forevermore ! 
 God's angel sweetly smiling in her sleep ; 
 How beautiful, how radiant of Heaven! 
 The ring I gave begirt her finger still ; 
 Her golden hair was wreathed with immortelles ; 
 The lips half-parted seemed to move in psalm 
 Or holy blessing. As I kissed her cheeks, 
 It almost seemed that they would flush again 
 As in those happy days beneath the pines ; 
 And as my warm tears fell upon her face, 
 Methought I heard that dear familiar voice,
 
 H 6 PAULINE. 
 
 So full of love and faith and calmest peace, 
 So near and yet so far and far away, 
 So mortal, yet so spiritual, like an air 
 Of softest music on the slumbering bay 
 Wafted on midnight-wings to silent shores, 
 When myriad stars are twinkling in the sea : 
 
 " ' Paul, O Paul, forgive and be forgiven ; 
 Earth is all trial ; there is peace in Heaven' 
 
 " Aye, Captain, in that sad and solemn hour 
 
 I laid my hand upon the arm of Christ, 
 
 And he hath led me all the weary way 
 
 To this last battle. I shall win through Him; 
 
 And ere you hear the reveille again 
 
 Paul and Pauline, amid the psalms of Heaven, 
 
 Embraced will kneel and at the feet of God 
 
 Receive His benediction. Let me sleep. 
 
 You know the rest ; I'm weary and must sleep. 
 
 An angel's bugle-blast will waken me, 
 
 But not to pain, for their is peace in Heaven.'
 
 PAULINE. 117 
 
 He slept, but not the silent sleep of death. 
 I felt his fitful pulse and caught anon 
 The softly-whispered words ' Pauline and 'Peace? 
 Anon he clutched with eager, nervous hand, 
 And in hoarse whisper shouted ' Steady, men ! ' 
 Then sunk again. Thus passed an hour or more 
 And he awoke, half-raised himself and said 
 With feeble voice, but eyes all lustre-lit: 
 
 " Captain, my craft is fleetly flitting out 
 
 Into the misty and eternal sea 
 
 From out whose waste no mortal craft returns. 
 
 The fog is closing round me and the mist 
 
 Is damp and cold upon my hands and face. 
 
 Why should I fear? the loved have gone before: 
 
 I seem to hear the plash of coming oars ; 
 
 The mists are lifting and the boat is near. 
 
 'Tis well. To die as I am dying now 
 
 A soldier's death amid the gladsome shouts 
 
 Of victory for which my puny hands 
 
 Did their full share, albeit it was small, 
 
 Was all my late ambition. Bring the Flag,
 
 n8 PAULINE. 
 
 And hold it o'er my head. Let me die thus 
 Under the stars I've followed. 
 
 " Tattered Flag, 
 
 Emblem of Hope to all the mis-ruled world, 
 Thy field of golden stars is rent and red 
 Dyed in the blood of brothers madly spilled 
 By brother-hands upon the mother-soil. 
 O fatal Upas of the fabled Nile, 
 Transplanted hither, rooted, multiplied, 
 Watered with bitter tears and sending forth 
 Thy venom-vapors till the land is mad, 
 Thy day is done. A million blades are swung 
 To lay thy jungles open to the sun; 
 A million torches blaze thy blasted boles ; 
 A million hands shall drag thy fibers out, 
 And feed the fires till every root and branch 
 Lie in dead ashes. From the blackened soil, 
 Enriched and moistened with fraternal blood, 
 Beside the palm shall spring the olive-tree, 
 And every breeze shall waft the happy songs 
 Of Freedom crowned with olean fruits and flowers.
 
 PAULINE. 119 
 
 Yea, Patriot-Flag of our old patriot-sires, 
 
 Honored, victorious on an hundred fields 
 
 Where side by side for Freedom's mother-land 
 
 Her Southern sons and Northern fighting fell, 
 
 And side by side in glorious graves repose, 
 
 I see the dawn of glory grander still, 
 
 When hand in hand upon this battle-field 
 
 The blue-eyed maidens of the Mertimac 
 
 With dewy roses from the Granite Hills, 
 
 And dark-eyed daughters from the land of Palms 
 
 With orange-blossoms from the broad St. Johns, 
 
 In solemn concert singing as they go 
 
 Shall deck the graves of these fraternal dead. 
 
 The day of triumph comes, O blood-stained Flag ! 
 
 Washed clean, and lustrous in the morning-light 
 
 Of a new era thou shalt float again 
 
 In more than pristine glory o'er the land 
 
 Peace-blest and re-united. On the seas 
 
 Thou shalt be honored to the farthest Ind. 
 
 The oppressed of foreign lands shall flock the shores 
 
 To look upon and bless thee. Mothers shall lift 
 
 Their infants to behold thee as a star 
 
 New-born in heaven to light the darkling world.
 
 120 PAULINE. 
 
 The children weeping round the desolate 
 
 Sore-stricken mother in the saddened home 
 
 Whereto the father shall no more return, 
 
 In future years will proudly boast the blood 
 
 Of him who bravely fell defending thee. 
 
 And these misguided brothers who would tear 
 
 Thy starry field asunder and would trail 
 
 Their own proud flag and history in the dust, 
 
 Ere many years will bless thee, dear old Flag, 
 
 That thou didst triumph even over them. 
 
 My part is done. 'Twas humble, but I feel 
 
 It was not all in vain. I go to rest. 
 
 These eyes are dim with death, but other eyes 
 
 Will see the glory thou shalt shortly wear, 
 
 And new-born stars float in upon thy field 
 
 In lustrous clusters, circling round the sun 
 
 Of universal Peace. God's will be done ! 
 
 God's will is peace on earth, good-will to men. 
 
 The chains all broken and the bond all free, 
 
 O may this nation learn to war no more ; 
 
 Yea, into plow-shares may these brothers beat 
 
 Their swords and into pruning-hooks their spears,- 
 
 Clasp hands again, and plant these battle-fields
 
 PAULINE. 121 
 
 With golden corn and purple-clustered vines, 
 And side by side re-build the broken walls 
 Joined and cemented as one solid stone 
 With patriot love and Christ's sweet charity." 
 
 And here his words became inaudible, 
 
 As in the 'mazes of the Mammoth Cave 
 
 Fainter and fainter on the listening ear 
 
 The low, retreating voices die away. 
 
 His eyes were closed ; a placid smile of peace 
 
 Sat on his lips. I held his nerveless hand, 
 
 And bent my ear to catch his latest breath ; 
 
 And, as the spirit fled the pulseless clay, 
 
 I heard or thought I heared his wondrous words 
 
 " Pauline /tow beautiful ! " 
 
 As I arose 
 The gray dawn paled the shadows in the east.
 
 122 THE PIONEER. 
 
 THE PIONEER. 
 
 (MINNESOTA.) 
 
 When Mollie and I were married from the dear old 
 
 cottage-home, 
 
 In the vale between the hills of fir and pine, 
 I parted with a sigh in a stranger-land to roam, 
 And to seek a western home for me and mine. 
 
 By a grove-encircled lake in the wild and prairied 
 
 West, 
 
 As the sun was sinking down one summer day, 
 I laid my knapsack down and my weary limbs to 
 
 rest, 
 And resolved to build a cottage-home and stay. 
 
 I staked and marked my "corners," and I "filed" 
 
 upon my claim, 
 
 And I built a cottage-home of " logs and shakes ; " 
 And then I wrote a letter, and Mollie and baby 
 
 came 
 Out to bless me and to bake my johnny-cakes.
 
 THE PIONEER. 123 
 
 When Mollie saw my " cottage " and the way that \ 
 
 had " bached," 
 
 She smiled, but I could see that she was " blue ; " 
 Then she found my " Sunday-clothes " all soiled and 
 
 torn and patched, 
 And she hid her face and shed a tear or two. 
 
 But she went to work in earnest and the cabin 
 
 fairly shone, 
 
 And her victuals were so savory and so nice 
 That I felt it was " not good that the man should 
 
 be alone "- 
 Even in this lovely land of Paradise. 
 
 Well, the neighbors they were few and were many 
 
 miles apart, 
 
 And you couldn't hear the locomotive scream ; 
 But I was young and hardy, and my Mollie gave 
 
 me heart, 
 And my " steers " they made a fast and fancy team. 
 
 Arid the way I broke the sod was a marvel, you can 
 bet,
 
 124 THE PIONEER. 
 
 For I fed my " steers " before the dawn of day ; 
 And when the sun went under I was plowing 
 
 prairie yet, 
 Till my Mollie blew the old tin horri for tea. 
 
 And the lazy, lousy " Injuns " came a-loafing round 
 
 the lake, 
 
 And a-begging for a bone or bit of bread ; 
 And the sneaking thieves would steal whatever 
 
 they could take 
 From the very house where they were kindly fed. 
 
 O the eastern preachers preach, and the long-haired 
 poets sing 
 
 Of the " noble braves " and " dusky maidens fair; " 
 
 But if they had pioneered 'twould have been an 
 other thing 
 
 When the " Injuns " got a hankering for their 
 " hair." 
 
 Often when we lay in bed in the middle of the night, 
 How the prairie-wolves would howl their jubilee !
 
 THE PIONEER. 125 
 
 Then Mollie she would waken in a shiver and a fright, 
 Clasp our baby-pet and snuggle up to me. 
 
 There were hardships you may guess, and enough 
 
 of weary toil 
 
 For the first few years, but then it was so grand 
 To see the corn and wheat waving o'er the virgin 
 
 soil, 
 And two stout and loving hearts went hand in hand. 
 
 But Mollie took the fever when our second babe 
 
 was born, 
 
 And she lay upon the bed as white as snow ; 
 And my idle cultivator lay a rusting in the corn ; 
 And the doctor said poor Mollie she must go. 
 
 Now I never prayed before, but I fell upon my 
 
 knees, 
 
 And I prayed as never any preacher prayed ; 
 And Mollie always said that it broke the fell disease ; 
 And I truly think the Lord He sent us aid :
 
 126 THE PIONEER. 
 
 For the fever it was broken, and she took a bit of 
 
 food, 
 
 And O then I went upon my knees again ; 
 And I never cried before, and I never thought I 
 
 could, 
 But my tears they fell upon her hand like rain. 
 
 And I think the Lord has blessed us ever since I 
 
 prayed the prayer, 
 
 For my crops have never wanted rain or dew : 
 And Mollie often said in the days of debt and care, 
 " Don't you worry, John, the Lord will help us 
 
 through." 
 
 For the "pesky," painted Sioux, in the fall of 'sixty- 
 two, 
 
 Came a-whooping on their ponies o'er the plain, 
 
 And they killed my pigs and cattle, and I tell you it 
 looked " blue," 
 
 When they danced around my blazing stacks of grain. 
 
 And the settlers mostly fled, but I didn't have a 
 
 chance, 
 So I caught my hunting-rifle long and true,
 
 THE PIONEER. 127 
 
 And Mollie poured the powder while I made the 
 
 devils dance 
 To a tune that made 'em jump and tumble, too. 
 
 And they fired upon the cabin, 'twas as good as 
 
 any fort, 
 
 But the " beauties" wouldn't give us any rest ; 
 For they skulked and blazed away, and I didn't 
 
 call it sport, , 
 
 For I had to do my very " level best. 
 
 Now they don't call me a coward, <but my Mollie 
 she's a " brick ; " 
 
 For she chucked the children down the cellar-way, 
 
 And she never flinched a hair tho' the bullets pat 
 tered thick, 
 
 And we held the " painted beauties " well at bay. 
 
 
 
 But, once when I was aiming, a bullet grazed my 
 
 head, 
 And it cut the scalp and made the air look blue ;
 
 128 THE PIONEER. 
 
 Then Mollie straightened up like a soldier and she 
 
 said : 
 " Never mind it, John, the Lord will help us 
 
 through." 
 
 And you bet it raised my " grit," and I never 
 
 flinched a bit, 
 
 And my nerves they got as strong as steel or brass ; 
 And when I fired again I was sure that I had hit. 
 For I saw the skulking devil " claw the grass." 
 
 Well, the fight was long and hot, and I got a charge 
 
 of shot 
 
 In the shoulder, but it never broke a bone ; 
 And I never stopped to think whether I was hit or 
 
 not 
 
 Till we found our ammunition almost gone. 
 
 
 
 But the " Rangers" came at last just as we were 
 
 out of lead, 
 And I thanked the Lord, and Mollie thanked Him, 
 
 too,
 
 THE PIONEER. 129 
 
 For she put her arms around my neck and sobbed 
 
 and cried and said : 
 " Bless the Lord ! I knew that He would help us 
 
 through." 
 
 And yonder on the hooks hangs that same old 
 
 trusty gun, 
 
 And above it I am sorry they're so few 
 Hang the black and braided trophies yet that I and 
 
 Mollie won 
 In that same old bloody battle with the Sioux. 
 
 Fifteen years have rolled away since I laid my 
 
 knapsack down. 
 
 And my prairie-claim is now one field of grain ; 
 And yonder down the lake loom the steeples of a 
 
 town, 
 And my flocks are feeding out upon the plain. 
 
 The old log-house is standing filled with bins of 
 
 corn and wheat, 
 And the cars 1;hey whistle past our cottage-home ;
 
 13 THE PIONEER. 
 
 But my span of spanking trotters they are "just 
 
 about" as fleet, 
 And I wouldn't give my farm to rule in Rome. 
 
 For Mollie and I are young yet, and monarchs, too, 
 
 are we 
 
 Of a " section" just as good as lies out-doors ; 
 And the children are so happy (and Mollie and I 
 
 have three) 
 And we think that we can " lie upon our oars." 
 
 So this summer we went back to the old home by 
 
 the hill : 
 
 O the hills they were so rugged and so tall ! 
 And the lofty pines were gone, but the rocks were 
 
 all there still, 
 And the valleys looked so crowded and so small. 
 
 And the dear familiar faces that I longed so much 
 
 to see, 
 Looked so strangely unfamiliar and so old,
 
 THE PIONEER. 131 
 
 That the land of hills and valleys was no more a 
 
 home to me, 
 And the river seemed a rivulet as it rolled. 
 
 So I gladly hastened back to the prairies of the 
 West, 
 
 To the boundless fields of waving grass and corn ; 
 
 And I love the lake-gemmed land where the wild- 
 goose builds her nest, 
 
 Far better than the land where I was born. 
 
 And I mean to lay my bones over yonder by the 
 
 lake 
 
 By and by when I have nothing else to do, 
 And I'll give the " chicks" the farm, and I know for 
 
 o 
 
 Mollie's sake, 
 
 That the good and gracious Lord will help 'em 
 through.
 
 132 MAULEY. 
 
 MAULEY, 
 
 THE BRAVE FERRYMAN, 
 
 [NOTE. The great Sioux massacre in Minnesota commenced at 
 the Agency village, on the Minnesota River, early in the morning of 
 the i8th day of August, 1862, precipitated, doubtless, by the murders 
 at Acton on the day previous. The massacre and the Indian war 
 that followed developed many brave men but no truer hero than 
 Mauley, an obscure Frenchman, the ferry-man at the Agency. Con 
 tinually under fire, he resolutely ran his ferry-boat back arid forth 
 across the river, affording the terror-stricken people the only chance 
 for escape. He was shot down on his boat just as he had landed 
 on the opposite shore the last of those who lied from the burning 
 village to the ferry-landing. The Indians disemboweled his dead 
 body, cutoff the head, hands and feet and thrust them into the 
 cavity. See Heard's Hist. Sioux War, p. 67.] 
 
 Crouching in the early morning, 
 Came the swarth and naked Sioux ; 
 On the village, without warning, 
 Fell the sudden, savage blow. 
 Horrid yell and crack of rifle 
 Mingle as the flames arise ; 
 With the tomahawk they stifle 
 Mother's wails and children's cries. 
 Men and women to the ferry 
 Fly from many a blazing cot ; 
 Brave and ready grim and steady, 
 Mauley mans the ferry-boat.
 
 MAULEY, 133 
 
 Can they cross the ambushed river? 
 'Tis for life the only chance ; 
 Only this may some deliver 
 From the scalping-knife and lance. 
 Through the throng of wailing women 
 Frantic men in terror burst ; 
 " Back, ye cravens ! " thunders Mauley, 
 I will take the women first ! " 
 Then with brawny arms and lever 
 Back the craven men he smote. 
 Brave and ready grim and steady, 
 Mauley mans the ferry-boat. 
 
 To and fro across the river 
 
 Plies the little mercy-craft, 
 
 While from ambushed gun and quiver 
 
 On it falls the fatal shaft. 
 
 Trembling from the burning village, 
 
 Still the terror-stricken fly, 
 
 For the Indians' love of pillage 
 
 Stays the bloody tragedy. 
 
 At the windlass-bar bare-headed 
 
 Bare his brawny arms and throat
 
 134 MAULEY. 
 
 Brave and ready grim and steady, 
 Mauley mans the ferry-boat. 
 
 Hark ! a sudden burst of war-hoops ! 
 They are bent on murder now ; 
 Down the ferry-road they rally, 
 Led by furious Little Crow. 
 Frantic mothers clasp their children, 
 And the help of God implore ; 
 Frantic men leap in the river 
 Ere the boat can reach the shore. 
 Mauley helps the weak and wounded 
 Till the last soul is afloat ; 
 Brave and ready grim and steady, 
 Mauley mans the ferry-boat. 
 
 Speed the craft ! The fierce Dacotas 
 Whoop and hasten to the shore, 
 And a shower of shot and arrows 
 On the crowded boat they pour. 
 Fast it floats across the river, 
 Managed by the master hand,
 
 MY HEARTS ON THE RHINE. 135 
 
 Laden with a freight so precious, 
 God be thanked ! it reaches land. 
 Where is Mauley grim and steady, 
 Shall his brave deed be forgot ? 
 Grasping still the windlass-lever, 
 Dead he lies upon the boat. 
 
 MY HEART'S ON THE RHINE. 
 
 FROM THE GERMAN OF WOLFGANG MULLER. 
 
 My heart's on the Rhine, in the old Father-land ; 
 Where my cradle was rocked by a dear mother's 
 
 hand, 
 My youth and my friends they are there yet, I 
 
 know, 
 And my love dreams of me with her cheeks all 
 
 aglow ; 
 
 O there where I revelled in song and in wine! 
 Wherever I wander my heart's on the Rhine.
 
 136 MY HEART'S ON THE RHINE. 
 
 I hail thee, thou broad and'thou golden-green stream ; 
 Ye cities and churches and castles that gleam ; 
 Ye grain-fields of gold in the valley so blue ; 
 Ye vineyards that glow in the sun-shirnmered dew ; 
 Ye forests and caverns and cliffs that were mine ! 
 Wherever I wander my heart's on the Rhine. 
 
 I hail thee, O life of the soul-stirring song, 
 Of waltz and of wine, with a yearning so strong ; 
 Hail, ye stout race of heroes, so brave and so true ; 
 Ye light-hearted maidens with eyes bonny blue ; 
 Your life and your aims and your efforts be mine ; 
 Wherever I wander my heart's on the Rhine. 
 
 My heart's on the Rhine, in the old Father-land, 
 Where my cradle was rocked by a dear mother's 
 
 hand ; 
 My youth and my friends they are there yet, I 
 
 know, 
 And my love dreams of me with her cheeks all 
 
 aglow ; 
 
 Be thou ever the same to me, Land of the Vine ! 
 Wherever I wander my heart's on the Rhine.
 
 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 137 
 
 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 
 (MARY OF MAGDALA.) 
 
 Reach thy hand to me, O Jesus ; 
 Reach thy loving hand to me, 
 Or I sink, alas, and perish 
 In my sin and agony. 
 
 From the depths I cry, O Jesus, 
 Lifting up mine eyes to thee ; 
 Save me from my sin and sorrow 
 With thy loving charity. 
 
 Pity, Jesus, blessed Saviour ; 
 I am weak, but thou art strong; 
 Fill my heart with prayer and praises, 
 Fill my soul with holy song. 
 
 Lift me up, O sacred Jesus, 
 Lift my bruised heart to thee ; 
 Teach me to be pure and holy 
 As the holy angels be.
 
 138 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 
 
 Scribes and Pharisees surround me ; 
 Thou art writing in the sand : 
 Must I perish, Son of Mary? 
 Wilt thou give the stern command ? 
 
 Am I saved ? for Jesus sayeth 
 " Let the sinless cast a stone." 
 Lo the Scribes have all departed, 
 And the Pharisees are gone ! 
 
 "Woman, where are thine accusers?" 
 " They have vanished one by one." 
 " Hath no man condemned thee, woman?" 
 And she meekly answered " None." 
 
 Then he spake His blessed answer 
 Balm indeed for sinners sore 
 " Neither then will I condemn thee : 
 Go thy way and sin no more."
 
 ISABEL. 139 
 
 ISABEL. 
 
 Fare-thee-well : 
 On my soul the toll of bell 
 Trembles. Thou art calmly sleeping 
 While my weary heart is weeping : 
 I cannot listen to thy knell : 
 Fare-thee-well. 
 
 Sleep and rest : 
 
 Sorrow shall not pain thy breast, 
 Pangs and pains that pierce the mortal 
 Cannot enter at the portal 
 
 Of the Mansion of the Blest : 
 Sleep and rest. 
 
 Slumber sweet, 
 
 Heart that nevermore will beat 
 At the foot-steps of thy lover ; 
 All thy cares and fears are over. 
 In thy silent winding-sheet 
 Slumber sweet.
 
 140 ISABEL. 
 
 Fare-thee-well : 
 In the garden and the dell 
 Where thou lov'dst to stroll and meet me, 
 Nevermore thy kiss shall greet me, 
 Nevermore, O Isabel ! 
 Fare-thee-well. 
 
 But we shall meet 
 Again, and O, the thought is sweet. 
 When my toils and cares are over, 
 Thou shalt greet again thy lover, 
 Robed and crowned at Jesus' feet 
 We shall meet. 
 
 Watch and wait 
 At the narrow, golden gate ; 
 Watch my coming, wait my greeting, 
 For my years are few and fleetii.g 
 And my love shall not abate : 
 Watch and wait. 
 
 So farewell, 
 O my darling Isabel ;
 
 ISABEL. 
 
 Till we meet in the supernal 
 Mansion and with love eternal 
 In the golden city dwell, 
 Fare-thee-well.
 
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