Chapter 6

'T was in the radiant summer weather, When God looked, smiling, from the sky; And we went wand'ring much together By wood and lane, Ione and I, Attracted by the subtle tie Of common thoughts and common tastes, Of eyes whose vision saw the same, And freely granted beauty's claim Where others found but worthless wastes.

We paused to hear the far bells ringing Across the distance, sweet and clear. We listened to the wild bird's singing The song he meant for his mate's ear, And deemed our chance to do so dear. We loved to watch the warrior Sun, With flaming shield and flaunting crest, Go striding down the gory West, When Day's long fight was fought and won.

And life became a different story; Where'er I looked, I saw new light. Earth's self assumed a greater glory, Mine eyes were cleared to fuller sight. Then first I saw the need and might Of that fair band, the singing throng, Who, gifted with the skill divine, Take up the threads of life, spun fine, And weave them into soulful song.

They sung for me, whose passion pressing My soul, found vent in song nor line. They bore the burden of expressing All that I felt, with art's design, And every word of theirs was mine. I read them to Ione, ofttimes, By hill and shore, beneath fair skies, And she looked deeply in mine eyes, And knew my love spoke through their rhymes.

Her life was like the stream that floweth, And mine was like the waiting sea; Her love was like the flower that bloweth, And mine was like the searching bee-- I found her sweetness all for me. God plied him in the mint of time, And coined for us a golden day, And rolled it ringing down life's way With love's sweet music in its chime.

And God unclasped the Book of Ages, And laid it open to our sight; Upon the dimness of its pages, So long consigned to rayless night, He shed the glory of his light. We read them well, we read them long, And ever thrilling did we see That love ruled all humanity,-- The master passion, pure and strong.

III

To-day my skies are bare and ashen, And bend on me without a beam. Since love is held the master-passion, Its loss must be the pain supreme-- And grinning Fate has wrecked my dream. But pardon, dear departed Guest, I will not rant, I will not rail; For good the grain must feel the flail; There are whom love has never blessed.

I had and have a younger brother, One whom I loved and love to-day As never fond and doting mother Adored the babe who found its way From heavenly scenes into her day. Oh, he was full of youth's new wine,-- A man on life's ascending slope, Flushed with ambition, full of hope; And every wish of his was mine.

A kingly youth; the way before him Was thronged with victories to be won; So joyous, too, the heavens o'er him Were bright with an unchanging sun,-- His days with rhyme were overrun. Toil had not taught him Nature's prose, Tears had not dimmed his brilliant eyes, And sorrow had not made him wise; His life was in the budding rose.

I know not how I came to waken, Some instinct pricked my soul to sight; My heart by some vague thrill was shaken,-- A thrill so true and yet so slight, I hardly deemed I read aright. As when a sleeper, ign'rant why, Not knowing what mysterious hand Has called him out of slumberland, Starts up to find some danger nigh.

Love is a guest that comes, unbidden, But, having come, asserts his right; He will not be repressed nor hidden. And so my brother's dawning plight Became uncovered to my sight. Some sound-mote in his passing tone Caught in the meshes of my ear; Some little glance, a shade too dear, Betrayed the love he bore Ione.

What could I do? He was my brother, And young, and full of hope and trust; I could not, dared not try to smother His flame, and turn his heart to dust. I knew how oft life gives a crust To starving men who cry for bread; But he was young, so few his days, He had not learned the great world's ways, Nor Disappointment's volumes read.

However fair and rich the booty, I could not make his loss my gain. For love is dear, but dearer duty, And here my way was clear and plain. I saw how I could save him pain. And so, with all my day grown dim, That this loved brother's sun might shine, I joined his suit, gave over mine, And sought Ione, to plead for him.

I found her in an eastern bower, Where all day long the am'rous sun Lay by to woo a timid flower. This day his course was well-nigh run, But still with lingering art he spun Gold fancies on the shadowed wall. The vines waved soft and green above, And there where one might tell his love, I told my griefs--I told her all!

I told her all, and as she hearkened, A tear-drop fell upon her dress. With grief her flushing brow was darkened; One sob that she could not repress Betrayed the depths of her distress. Upon her grief my sorrow fed, And I was bowed with unlived years, My heart swelled with a sea of tears, The tears my manhood could not shed.

The world is Rome, and Fate is Nero, Disporting in the hour of doom. God made us men; times make the hero-- But in that awful space of gloom I gave no thought but sorrow's room. All--all was dim within that bower, What time the sun divorced the day; And all the shadows, glooming gray, Proclaimed the sadness of the hour.

She could not speak--no word was needed; Her look, half strength and half despair, Told me I had not vainly pleaded, That she would not ignore my prayer. And so she turned and left me there, And as she went, so passed my bliss; She loved me, I could not mistake-- But for her own and my love's sake, Her womanhood could rise to this!

My wounded heart fled swift to cover, And life at times seemed very drear. My brother proved an ardent lover-- What had so young a man to fear? He wed Ione within the year. No shadow clouds her tranquil brow, Men speak her husband's name with pride, While she sits honored at his side-- She is--she must be happy now!

I doubt the course I took no longer, Since those I love seem satisfied. The bond between them will grow stronger As they go forward side by side; Then will my pains be jusfied. Their joy is mine, and that is best-- I am not totally bereft; For I have still the mem'ry left-- Love stopped with me--a Royal Guest!

RELIGION

I am no priest of crooks nor creeds, For human wants and human needs Are more to me than prophets' deeds; And human tears and human cares Affect me more than human prayers.

Go, cease your wail, lugubrious saint! You fret high Heaven with your plaint. Is this the "Christian's joy" you paint? Is this the Christian's boasted bliss? Avails your faith no more than this?

Take up your arms, come out with me, Let Heav'n alone; humanity Needs more and Heaven less from thee. With pity for mankind look 'round; Help them to rise--and Heaven is found.

DEACON JONES' GRIEVANCE

I 've been watchin' of 'em, parson, An' I 'm sorry fur to say 'At my mind is not contented With the loose an' keerless way 'At the young folks treat the music; 'T ain't the proper sort o' choir. Then I don't believe in Christuns A-singin' hymns for hire.

But I never would 'a' murmured An' the matter might 'a' gone Ef it was n't fur the antics 'At I've seen 'em kerry on; So I thought it was my dooty Fur to come to you an' ask Ef you would n't sort o' gently Take them singin' folks to task.

Fust, the music they 've be'n singin' Will disgrace us mighty soon; It 's a cross between a opry An' a ol' cotillion tune. With its dashes an' its quavers An' its hifalutin style-- Why, it sets my head to swimmin' When I 'm comin' down the aisle.

Now it might be almost decent Ef it was n't fur the way 'At they git up there an' sing it, Hey dum diddle, loud and gay. Why, it shames the name o' sacred In its brazen wordliness, An' they 've even got "Ol' Hundred" In a bold, new-fangled dress.

You 'll excuse me, Mr. Parson, Ef I seem a little sore; But I 've sung the songs of Isr'el For threescore years an' more, An' it sort o' hurts my feelin's Fur to see 'em put away Fur these harum-scarum ditties 'At is capturin' the day.

There 's anuther little happ'nin' 'At I 'll mention while I 'm here, Jes' to show 'at my objections All is offered sound and clear. It was one day they was singin' An' was doin' well enough-- Singin' good as people could sing Sich an awful mess o' stuff--

When the choir give a holler, An' the organ give a groan, An' they left one weak-voiced feller A-singin' there alone! But he stuck right to the music, Tho' 't was tryin' as could be; An' when I tried to help him, Why, the hull church scowled at me.

You say that's so-low singin', Well, I pray the Lord that I Growed up when folks was willin' To sing their hymns so high. Why, we never had sich doin's In the good ol' Bethel days, When the folks was all contented With the simple songs of praise.

Now I may have spoke too open, But 'twas too hard to keep still, An' I hope you 'll tell the singers 'At I bear 'em no ill-will. 'At they all may git to glory Is my wish an' my desire, But they 'll need some extry trainin' 'Fore they jine the heavenly choir.

ALICE

Know you, winds that blow your course Down the verdant valleys, That somewhere you must, perforce, Kiss the brow of Alice? When her gentle face you find, Kiss it softly, naughty wind.

Roses waving fair and sweet Thro' the garden alleys, Grow into a glory meet For the eye of Alice; Let the wind your offering bear Of sweet perfume, faint and rare.

Lily holding crystal dew In your pure white chalice, Nature kind hath fashioned you Like the soul of Alice; It of purest white is wrought, Filled with gems of crystal thought.

AFTER THE QUARREL

So we, who 've supped the self-same cup, To-night must lay our friendship by; Your wrath has burned your judgment up, Hot breath has blown the ashes high. You say that you are wronged--ah, well, I count that friendship poor, at best A bauble, a mere bagatelle, That cannot stand so slight a test.

I fain would still have been your friend, And talked and laughed and loved with you; But since it must, why, let it end; The false but dies, 't is not the true. So we are favored, you and I, Who only want the living truth. It was not good to nurse the lie; 'T is well it died in harmless youth.

I go from you to-night to sleep. Why, what's the odds? why should I grieve? I have no fund of tears to weep For happenings that undeceive. The days shall come, the days shall go Just as they came and went before. The sun shall shine, the streams shall flow Though you and I are friends no more.

And in the volume of my years, Where all my thoughts and acts shall be, The page whereon your name appears Shall be forever sealed to me. Not that I hate you over-much, 'T is less of hate than love defied; Howe'er, our hands no more shall touch, We 'll go our ways, the world is wide.

BEYOND THE YEARS

I

Beyond the years the answer lies, Beyond where brood the grieving skies And Night drops tears. Where Faith rod-chastened smiles to rise And doff its fears, And carping Sorrow pines and dies-- Beyond the years.

II

Beyond the years the prayer for rest Shall beat no more within the breast; The darkness clears, And Morn perched on the mountain's crest Her form uprears-- The day that is to come is best, Beyond the years.

III

Beyond the years the soul shall find That endless peace for which it pined, For light appears, And to the eyes that still were blind With blood and tears, Their sight shall come all unconfined Beyond the years.

AFTER A VISIT

I be'n down in ole Kentucky Fur a week er two, an' say, 'T wuz ez hard ez breakin' oxen Fur to tear myse'f away. Allus argerin' 'bout fren'ship An' yer hospitality-- Y' ain't no right to talk about it Tell you be'n down there to see.

See jest how they give you welcome To the best that's in the land, Feel the sort o' grip they give you When they take you by the hand. Hear 'em say, "We 're glad to have you, Better stay a week er two;" An' the way they treat you makes you Feel that ev'ry word is true.

Feed you tell you hear the buttons Crackin' on yore Sunday vest; Haul you roun' to see the wonders Tell you have to cry for rest. Drink yer health an' pet an' praise you Tell you git to feel ez great Ez the Sheriff o' the county Ez the Gov'ner o' the State.

Wife, she sez I must be crazy 'Cause I go on so, an' Nelse He 'lows, "Goodness gracious! daddy, Cain't you talk about nuthin' else?" Well, pleg-gone it, I 'm jes' tickled, Bein' tickled ain't no sin; I be'n down in ole Kentucky, An' I want o' go ag'in.

CURTAIN

Villain shows his indiscretion, Villain's partner makes confession. Juvenile, with golden tresses, Finds her pa and dons long dresses. Scapegrace comes home money-laden, Hero comforts tearful maiden, Soubrette marries loyal chappie, Villain skips, and all are happy.

THE SPELLIN'-BEE

I never shall furgit that night when father hitched up Dobbin, An' all us youngsters clambered in an' down the road went bobbin' To school where we was kep' at work in every kind o' weather, But where that night a spellin'-bee was callin' us together. 'Twas one o' Heaven's banner nights, the stars was all a glitter, The moon was shinin' like the hand o' God had jest then lit her. The ground was white with spotless snow, the blast was sort o' stingin'; But underneath our round-abouts, you bet our hearts was singin'. That spellin'-bee had be'n the talk o' many a precious moment, The youngsters all was wild to see jes' what the precious show meant, An' we whose years was in their teens was little less desirous O' gittin' to the meetin' so 's our sweethearts could admire us. So on we went so anxious fur to satisfy our mission That father had to box our ears, to smother our ambition. But boxin' ears was too short work to hinder our arrivin', He jest turned roun' an' smacked us all, an' kep' right on a-drivin'. Well, soon the schoolhouse hove in sight, the winders beamin' brightly; The sound o' talkin' reached our ears, and voices laffin' lightly. It puffed us up so full an' big 'at I 'll jest bet a dollar, There wa'n't a feller there but felt the strain upon his collar. So down we jumped an' in we went ez sprightly ez you make 'em, But somethin' grabbed us by the knees an' straight began to shake 'em. Fur once within that lighted room, our feelin's took a canter, An' scurried to the zero mark ez quick ez Tam O'Shanter. 'Cause there was crowds o' people there, both sexes an' all stations; It looked like all the town had come an' brought all their relations. The first I saw was Nettie Gray, I thought that girl was dearer 'N' gold; an' when I got a chance, you bet I aidged up near her. An' Farmer Dobbs's girl was there, the one 'at Jim was sweet on, An' Cyrus Jones an' Mandy Smith an' Faith an' Patience Deaton. Then Parson Brown an' Lawyer Jones were present--all attention, An' piles on piles of other folks too numerous to mention. The master rose an' briefly said: "Good friends, dear brother Crawford, To spur the pupils' minds along, a little prize has offered. To him who spells the best to-night--or 't may be 'her'--no tellin'-- He offers ez a jest reward, this precious work on spellin'." A little blue-backed spellin'-book with fancy scarlet trimmin'; We boys devoured it with our eyes--so did the girls an' women. He held it up where all could see, then on the table set it, An' ev'ry speller in the house felt mortal bound to get it. At his command we fell in line, prepared to do our dooty, Outspell the rest an' set 'em down, an' carry home the booty. 'T was then the merry times began, the blunders, an' the laffin', The nudges an' the nods an' winks an' stale good-natured chaffin'. Ole Uncle Hiram Dane was there, the clostest man a-livin', Whose only bugbear seemed to be the dreadful fear o' givin'. His beard was long, his hair uncut, his clothes all bare an' dingy; It wasn't 'cause the man was pore, but jest so mortal stingy; An' there he sot by Sally Riggs a-smilin' an' a-smirkin', An' all his children lef' to home a diggin' an' a-workin'. A widower he was, an' Sal was thinkin' 'at she 'd wing him; I reckon he was wond'rin' what them rings o' hern would bring him. An' when the spellin'-test commenced, he up an' took his station, A-spellin' with the best o' them to beat the very nation. An' when he 'd spell some youngster down, he 'd turn to look at Sally, An' say: "The teachin' nowadays can't be o' no great vally." But true enough the adage says, "Pride walks in slipp'ry places," Fur soon a thing occurred that put a smile on all our faces. The laffter jest kep' ripplin' 'roun' an' teacher could n't quell it, Fur when he give out "charity" ole Hiram could n't spell it. But laffin' 's ketchin' an' it throwed some others off their bases, An' folks 'u'd miss the very word that seemed to fit their cases. Why, fickle little Jessie Lee come near the house upsettin' By puttin' in a double "kay" to spell the word "coquettin'." An' when it come to Cyrus Jones, it tickled me all over-- Him settin' up to Mandy Smith an' got sot down on "lover." But Lawyer Jones of all gone men did shorely look the gonest, When he found out that he 'd furgot to put the "h" in "honest." An' Parson Brown, whose sermons were too long fur toleration, Caused lots o' smiles by missin' when they give out "condensation." So one by one they giv' it up--the big words kep' a-landin', Till me an' Nettie Gray was left, the only ones a-standin', An' then my inward strife began--I guess my mind was petty-- I did so want that spellin'-book; but then to spell down Nettie Jest sort o' went ag'in my grain--I somehow could n't do it, An' when I git a notion fixed, I 'm great on stickin' to it. So when they giv' the next word out--I had n't orter tell it, But then 't was all fur Nettie's sake--I missed so's she could spell it. She spelt the word, then looked at me so lovin'-like an' mello', I tell you 't sent a hunderd pins a shootin' through a fello'. O' course I had to stand the jokes an' chaffin' of the fello's, But when they handed her the book I vow I was n't jealous. We sung a hymn, an' Parson Brown dismissed us like he orter, Fur, la! he 'd learned a thing er two an' made his blessin' shorter. 'T was late an' cold when we got out, but Nettie liked cold weather, An' so did I, so we agreed we 'd jest walk home together. We both wuz silent, fur of words we nuther had a surplus, 'Till she spoke out quite sudden like, "You missed that word on purpose." Well, I declare it frightened me; at first I tried denyin', But Nettie, she jest smiled an' smiled, she knowed that I was lyin'. Sez she: "That book is yourn by right;" sez I: "It never could be-- I--I--you--ah--" an' there I stuck, an' well she understood me. So we agreed that later on when age had giv' us tether, We 'd jine our lots an' settle down to own that book together.

KEEP A-PLUGGIN' AWAY

I 've a humble little motto That is homely, though it 's true,-- Keep a-pluggin' away. It's a thing when I 've an object That I always try to do,-- Keep a-pluggin' away. When you 've rising storms to quell, When opposing waters swell, It will never fail to tell,-- Keep a-pluggin' away.

If the hills are high before And the paths are hard to climb, Keep a-pluggin' away. And remember that successes Come to him who bides his time,-- Keep a-pluggin' away. From the greatest to the least, None are from the rule released. Be thou toiler, poet, priest, Keep a-pluggin' away.

Delve away beneath the surface, There is treasure farther down,-- Keep a-pluggin' away. Let the rain come down in torrents, Let the threat'ning heavens frown, Keep a-pluggin' away. When the clouds have rolled away, There will come a brighter day All your labor to repay,-- Keep a-pluggin' away.

There 'll be lots of sneers to swallow, There 'll be lots of pain to bear,-- Keep a-pluggin' away. If you 've got your eye on heaven, Some bright day you 'll wake up there,-- Keep a-pluggin' away. Perseverance still is king; Time its sure reward will bring; Work and wait unwearying,-- Keep a-pluggin' away.

NIGHT OF LOVE

The moon has left the sky, love, The stars are hiding now, And frowning on the world, love, Night bares her sable brow. The snow is on the ground, love, And cold and keen the air is. I 'm singing here to you, love; You 're dreaming there in Paris.

But this is Nature's law, love, Though just it may not seem, That men should wake to sing, love, While maidens sleep and dream. Them care may not molest, love, Nor stir them from their slumbers, Though midnight find the swain, love, Still halting o'er his numbers.

I watch the rosy dawn, love, Come stealing up the east, While all things round rejoice, love, That Night her reign has ceased. The lark will soon be heard, love, And on his way be winging; When Nature's poets wake, love, Why should a man be singing?

COLUMBIAN ODE

I

Four hundred years ago a tangled waste Lay sleeping on the west Atlantic's side; Their devious ways the Old World's millions traced Content, and loved, and labored, dared and died, While students still believed the charts they conned, And revelled in their thriftless ignorance, Nor dreamed of other lands that lay beyond Old Ocean's dense, indefinite expanse.

II

But deep within her heart old Nature knew That she had once arrayed, at Earth's behest, Another offspring, fine and fair to view,-- The chosen suckling of the mother's breast. The child was wrapped in vestments soft and fine, Each fold a work of Nature's matchless art; The mother looked on it with love divine, And strained the loved one closely to her heart. And there it lay, and with the warmth grew strong And hearty, by the salt sea breezes fanned, Till Time with mellowing touches passed along, And changed the infant to a mighty land.

III

But men knew naught of this, till there arose That mighty mariner, the Genoese, Who dared to try, in spite of fears and foes, The unknown fortunes of unsounded seas. O noblest of Italia's sons, thy bark Went not alone into that shrouding night! O dauntless darer of the rayless dark, The world sailed with thee to eternal light! The deer-haunts that with game were crowded then To-day are tilled and cultivated lands; The schoolhouse tow'rs where Bruin had his den, And where the wigwam stood the chapel stands; The place that nurtured men of savage mien Now teems with men of Nature's noblest types; Where moved the forest-foliage banner green, Now flutters in the breeze the stars and stripes!

A BORDER BALLAD