,,in ,,various ,,moods ,poems ,and ,verses ,by ,irving ,bacheller ,harper ,brothers ,publishers ,new ,york ,and ,london ,,mcmx ,illustration3 #jjjb ,illustration3 #jjjg ,illustration3 #jjaj ,,in ,,various ,,moods ,,the ,,sowers ,written for the ,fiftieth ,anniversary of the ,founding of ,st4 ,lawrence ,university ,i know the hills that lift the distant plain1 ,the college hall--the spirit of its throngs1 ,the meadows and the waving fields of grain1 ,full well ,i know their colors and their songs4 ,i know the storied gates where love was told1 ,the grove where walked the muses and the seers1 ,the river1 dark or touched with light of gold1 ,or slow1 or swift so like the flowing years4 ,i know not these who sadly sit them down ,and while the night in half-forgotten days2 ,i know not these who wear the hoary crown ,and find a pathos in the merry lays4 ,here ,memory1 with old wisdom on her lips1 ,a finger points at each familiar name-- ,some writ on water1 stone or stranded ships1 ,some in the music of the trump of fame4 ,here oft1 ,i think1 beloved voices call ,behind a weathered door 'neath ancient trees4 ,i hear sad echoes in the empty hall1 ,the wide world's lyric in the harping breeze4 ,it sings of them ,i loved and left of old1 ,of my fond hope to bring a worthy prize-- ,some well-earned token1 better far than gold1 ,and lay it humbly down before their eyes4 ,and tell them it were rightly theirs--not mine1 ,an harvest come of their own word and deed2 ,i strove with tares that threatened my design ,to make the crop as noble as the seed4 ,so they might see it paid--that life they knew-- ,a toilsome web and knit of many a skein1 ,with love's sweet sacrifice all woven through1 ,and broken threads of hope and joy and pain4 ,on root-bound acres1 pent with rocks and stones1 ,their hope of wealth and leisure slowly died4 ,they gave their strength in toil that racked their bones1 ,they gave their youth1 their beauty1 and their pride4 ,ere ,nature's last defence had been withdrawn ,that those they loved might have what they could not-- ,the power of learning wedded to their brawn ,and to the simple virtue there begot4 ,my college6 ,once--it was a day of old-- ,i saw thy panes aglow with sunset fire ,and heard the story of thy purpose told ,and felt the tide of infinite desire4 ,in thee ,i saw the gates of mystery ,that led to dream-lit1 vast1 inviting lands-- ,far backward to the bourne of history ,and forward to the ,house not made with hands4 ,you gave the husbandman a richer yield ,than any that his granary may hold2 ,you called his children from the shop and field1 ,taught them to sow and reap an undredfold4 ,to sow the seed of truth and hope and peace1 ,and take the root of error from the sod2 ,to be of those who make the sure increase1 ,forever growing1 in the lands of ,god4 ,,the ,,new ,,world ,read before the ,lambda ,chapter of ,phi ,beta ,kappa1 ,june #bd1 #aijb ,idle gods of ,old ,olympus--,zeus and his immortal clan1 ,grown in stature1 grace and wisdom1 meekly serve the will of man4 ,every elemental giant has been trained to seek and raise ,gates of the impossible that lead to undiscovered ways4 ,man hath come to stranger things than ever bard or prophet saw4 ,lo1 he sits in judgment on the gods and doth amend their law4 ,now reality with wonder-deed of ancient fable teems-- ,fact is wrought of golden fancy from the old ,homeric dreams4 ,zeus1 with thought to load the fulmen gathered for his mighty sling1 ,hurls across the ocean desert as 'twere ut a pebble-fling2 ,titans move the gathered harvests1 push the loaded ship and train1 ,rushing swiftly 'twixt horizons1 shoulder to the hurricane4 ,hermes1 of the winged sandal1 strides from midday into night4 ,pallas1 with a nobler passion1 turns the hero from his fight4 ,vulcan melts the sundered mountain into girder1 beam and frieze4 ,where the mighty wheel is turning hear the groan of ,hercules4 ,eyes of man1 forever reaching where immensity envails1 ,view the ships of ,god in full career with light upon their sails4 ,read the tonnage1 log1 and compass--measure each magnetic chain ,fastened to the fiery engine towing in the upper main4 ,man hath searched the small infernos1 narrow as a needle's eye1 ,rent the veil of littleness 'neath which unnumbered dragons lie4 ,conquered pain with halted feeling1 baned the falling ,house of ,life1 ,as with breeding rats infested1 ravening in bloody strife4 ,change hath shorn the distances from little unto mighty things-- ,aye1 from man to ,god1 from poor to rich1 from peasants unto kings4 ,justice1 keen-eyed1 ,saxon-hearted1 scans the records of the world1 ,makes the heartless tyrant tremble when her stem rebuke is hurled4 ,thought-ways1 reaching under oceans or above the mountain height1 ,drain to distant1 darkened realms the ceaseless overflow of light4 ,in the shortened ways of travel ,charity shall seek her goal1 ,find the love her burden merits in the commerce of the soul4 ,right must rule in earth and heaven1 though its coming here be slow2 ,gods must grow in grace and wisdom as the mind of man doth grow2 ,law and ,prophet be forgotten1 deities uprise and fall ,till one ,god1 one hope1 one rule of life be great enough for all4 ,,faith ,being some words of counsel from an old ,yankee to his son ,bill when the latter is about to enter college4 ,faith1 ,bill8 ,you remember how ye used to wake an' cry1 ,an' when ,i lit a candle how the bugaboos 'u'd fly8 ,well1 faith is like a father in the dark of every night-- ,it tells ye not t' be afraid1 an' mebbe strikes a light4 ,now1 don't expect too much o' ,god1 it wouldn't be quite fair ,if fer anything ye wanted ye could only swap a prayer2 ,i'd pray fer yours1 an' you fer mine1 an' ,deacon ,henry ,hospur1 ,he wouldn't hev a thing t' do but lay abed an' prosper4 ,if all things come so easy1 ,bill1 they'd hev but little worth1 ,an' some one with a gift o' prayer 'u'd mebbe own the earth4 ,it's the toil ye give t' git a thing--the sweat an' blood an' care-- ,that makes the kind o' argument that ought to back yer prayer4 ,fer the record o' yer doin'--,i believe the soul is planned ,with some self-workin' register t' tell jest how ye stand4 ,an' it won't take any cipherin' t' show1 that fearful day1 ,if ye've multiplied yer talents well1 er thrown 'em all away4 ,when yer feet are on the summit1 an' the wide horizon clears1 ,an' ye look back on yer pathway windin' thro' the vale o' tears2 ,when ye see how much ye've trespassed1 an' how fur ye've gone astray1 ,ye'll know the way o' ,providence ain't apt t' be your way4 ,god knows as much as can be known1 but ,i don't think it's true4 ,he knows of all the dangers in the path o' me an' you4 ,if ,i shet my eyes an' hurl a stun that kills--the ,king o' ,siam1 ,the chances are that ,god 'll be as much surprised as ,i am4 ,if ye pray with faith believin'1 why1 ye'll certainly receive1 ,but that ,god 'll break ,his own good law is more 'n ,i'll believe4 ,if it grieves ,him when a sparrow falls1 it's sure as anything1 ,he'd hev turned the arrow1 if ,he could1 that broke the sparrow's wing4 ,ye can read old ,nature's history that's writ in rocks an' stones1 ,ye can see her throbbin' vitals an' her mighty rack o' bones1 ,but the soul o' her--the livin' ,god1 a little child may know ,no lens er rule o' cipherin' can ever hope t' show4 ,there's a part o' ,god's creation very handy t' yer view1 ,all the truth o' life is in it an' remember1 ,bill1 it's you4 ,an' after all yer science ye must look up in yer mind ,an' learn its own astronomy the star o' peace t' find4 ,there's good old ,aunt ,samanthy ,jane that all her journey long ,has led her heart to labor with a reveille of song4 ,her folks hev robbed an' left her1 but her faith in goodness grows2 ,she hasn't any larnin'1 but ,i tell ye1 ,bill1 she knows6 ,she's hed her share o' troubles2 ,i remember well the day ,we took her t' the poor-house--she was singin' all the way4 ,ye needn't be afraid t' come where stormy ,jordan flows1 ,if all the l'arnin' ye can git has taught ye half she knows4 ,there's a many big departments in this ancient school o' ,god1 ,an' ye keep right on a l'arnin' till ye lay beneath the sod1 ,all the books an' apperaytus1 all the wisdom o' the seers ,will be jest a preparation fer the study o' the years4 ,,ballad ,,of ,,the ,,sabre ,,cross ,,and #g ,a troop of sorrels led by ,vic and then a troop of bays1 ,in the backward ranks of the foaming flanks a double troop of grays2 ,the horses are galloping muzzle to tail1 and back of the waving manes ,the troopers sit1 their brows all knit1 a left hand on the reins4 ,their hats are gray1 and their shirts of blue have a sabre cross and #g1 ,and little they know1 when the trumpeters blow1 they'll halt at the gates of heaven4 ,their colors have dipped at the top of a ridge-- how the long line of cavalry waves6-- ,and over the hills1 at a gallop that kills1 they are riding to get to their graves4 ,i heard the scouts jabber all night1 said one2 they peppered my dreams with alarm4 ,that old ,ree scout had his medicine out an' was tryin' to fix up a charm4 ,there are miles of tepees just ahead1 and the warriors in hollow and vale ,lie low in the grass till the troopers pass and then they creep over the trail4 ,the trumpets have sounded--the ,general shouts6 ,he pulls up and turns to the rear2 ,we can't go back--they've covered our track-- we've got t' fight 'em here4 ,he rushes a troop to the point of the ridge1 where the valley opens wide1 ,and ,smith deploys a line of the boys to stop the coming tide4 ,a fire flames up on the skirt of the hills2 in every deep ravine ,the savages yell1 like the fiends of hell1 behind a smoky screen4 ,where's ,reno8 said ,custer4 ,why don't he charge8 ,it isn't a time to dally6 ,and he waves his hat1 this way and that1 as he looks across the valley4 ,there's a wild stampede of horses2 every man in the skirmish line ,stands at his post as a howling host rush up the steep incline4 ,their rifles answer a deadly fire and they fall with a fighting frown1 ,till two by two1 in a row of blue1 the skirmish line is down4 ,a trooper stood over his wounded mate4 ,no use o' yer tryin't' fight1 ,blow out yer brains--you'll suffer hell-pains when ye go to the torture to-night4 ,we tackled too much2 'twas a desperate game-- ,i knowed we never could win it4 ,custer is dead--they're all of 'em dead an' ,i shall be dead in a minute4 ,they're all of them down at the top of the ridge2 the sabre cross and #g ,on many a breast1 as it lies at rest1 is turned to the smoky heaven4 ,three wounded men are up and away2 they're running hard for their lives1 ,while bloody corses of riders and horses are quivering under the knives4 ,some troopers watch from a distant hill with hope that never tires2 ,illustration3 #jjcd ,there's a reeling dance on the river's edge2 its echoes fill the night2 ,in the valley dim its shadows swim on a lengthening pool of light4 ,the scattered troops of ,reno look and listen with bated breath1 ,while bugle strains on lonely plains are searching the valley of death4 ,illustration3 #jjce ,what's that like tumbled grave-stones on the hilltop there ahead8 ,said the trooper peering through his glass1 ,my ,god6 sir1 it's the dead6 ,how white they look6 ,how white they look6 they've killed 'em--every one6 ,an' they're stripped as bare as babies an' they're rotting in the sun4 ,and ,custer--back of the tumbled line on a slope of the ridge we found him2 ,and three men deep in a bloody heap1 they fell as they rallied 'round him4 ,the plains lay brown1 like a halted sea held firm by the leash of ,god2 ,in the rolling waves we dug their graves and left them under the sod4 ,,whisperin' ,,bill ,so ye 're runnin' fer ,congress1 mister8 ,le 'me tell ye 'bout my son-- ,might make you fellers carefuller down there in ,washington-- ,he clings to his rifle an' uniform--folks call him ,whisperin' ,bill2 ,an' ,i tell ye the war ain't over yit up here on ,bowman's ,hill4 ,this dooryard is his battle-field--le's see1 he was nigh sixteen ,when ,sumter fell1 an' as likely a boy as ever this world has seen2 ,an' what with the news o' battles lost1 the speeches an' all the noise1 ,i guess ev'ry farm in the neighborhood lost a part of its crop o' boys4 ',t was harvest time when ,bill left home2 ev'ry stalk in the fields o' rye ,seemed to stan' tiptoe to see him off an' wave him a fond good-bye2 ,his sweetheart was here with some other gals--the sassy little miss6 ,an' purtendin' she wanted to whisper 'n his ear1 she give him a rousin' kiss4 ,oh1 he was a han'some feller6 an' tender an' brave an' smart1 ,an' though he was bigger 'n ,i was1 the boy had a woman's heart4 ,i couldn't control my feelin's1 but ,i tried with all my might1 ,an' his mother an' me stood a-cryin' till ,bill was out o' sight4 ,his mother she often tol' him1 when she knew he was goin' away1 ,that ,god would take care o' him1 maybe1 if he didn't fergit to pray2 ,an' on the bloodiest battle-fields1 when bullets whizzed in the air1 ,an' ,bill was a-fightin' desperit1 he used to whisper a prayer4 ,oh1 his comrades has often tol' me that ,bill never flinched a bit ,when every second a gap in the ranks tol' where a ball had hit4 ,an' one night1 when the field was covered with the awful harvest o' war1 ,they found my boy 'mongst the martyrs o' the cause he was fightin' for4 ,his fingers was clutched in the dewy grass--oh1 no1 sir1 he wasn't dead1 ,but he lay kind o' helpless an' crazy with a rifleball in his head2 ,an' he trembled with the battle-fear as he lay there in the dew2 ,an' he whispered as he tried to rise3 ,god 'll take care o' you4 ,an officer wrote an' to,l' us how the boy had been hurt in the fight1 ,but he said the doctors reckoned they could bring him around all right4 ,an' then we heard from a neighbor1 disabled at ,malvern ,hill1 ,that he thought in the course of a week or so he'd be comin' home with ,bill4 ,we was that anxious t' see him we'd set up an' talk o' nights ,till the break o' day had dimmed the stars an' put out the ,northern ,lights2 ,we waited an' watched fer a month or more1 an' the summer was nearly past1 ,when a letter come one day that said they'd started fer home at last4 ,i'll never fergit the day ,bill come--'twas harvest time again-- ,an' the air blown over the yeller fields was sweet with the scent o' the grain2 ,the dooryard was full o' the neighbors1 who had come to share our joy1 ,an' all of us sent up a mighty cheer at the sight o' that soldier boy4 ,an' all of a sudden somebody said3 ,my ,god6 don't the boy know his mother8 ,an' ,bill stood a-whisperin'1 fearful like1 an' a-starin' from one to another2 ,don't be afraid1 ,bill1 says he to himself1 as he stood in his coat o' blue1 ,why1 ,god 'll take care o' you1 ,bill1 ,god 'll take care o' you4 ,he seemed to be loadin' an' firin' a gun1 an' to act like a man who hears ,the awful roar o' the battle-field a-soundin' in his ears2 ,ten thousan' ghosts o' that bloody day was marchin' through his brain ,an' his feet they kind o' picked their way as if they felt the slain4 ,an' ,i grabbed his hand1 an' says ,i to ,bill1 ,don't ye 'member me8 ,i'm yer father--don't ye know me8 ,how frightened ye seem to be6 ,but the boy kep' a-whisperin' to himself1 as if 'twas all he knew1 ,god'll take o' you1 ,bill1 ,god'll take care o' you4 ,he's never known us since that day1 nor his sweetheart1 an' never will2 ,father an' mother an' sweetheart are all the same to ,bill4 ,an' he groans like a wounded soldier1 sometimes the whole night through1 ,an' we smooth his head1 an' say3 ,yes1 ,bill1 ,he 'll surely take care o' you4 ,ye can stop a war in a minute1 but when can ye stop the groans8 ,fer ye've broke our hearts an' sapped our blood an' plucked away our bones4 ,an' ye've filled our souls with bitterness that goes from sire to son1 ,so ye best be kind o' careful down there in ,washington4 ,,the ,,red ,,dew ,being some small account of the war experience of an ,east ,river pilot1 whose boat was the ,susquehanna1 familiarily known as the ,susq1 and who lost his leg and more at ,gettysburg4 ,at de break o' day ,i goes t' bed1 an' ,i goes to work at dusk1 ,fer ev'ry night dat a boat can run ,i takes de wheel o' de ,susq4 ,de nights is long in de pilot-house8 ,well1 now d'ye hear me speakin'8 ,no night is long since de one ,i spent wid me sta'b'ard side a-leakin'4 ,i'd gone t' de war an' was all stove in1 an' ,i seen how a little white hand ,can take holt of a great big chump like me an' make him drop his sand4 ,an' her face6 ,de face o' de ,holy ,mary warn't any sweeter 'n hern6 ,if ye like ,i'll set de wheel o' me mind an' let 'er drift astern4 ,we'd fit all day till de sun was low an' ,i t'ought de war was fun1 ,till a big ball skun de side o' me face an' smashed de end o' me gun4 ,den anodder one kicked me foot off--see8 an' ,i tell ye it done it cunnin'1 ,an' ,i trun meself in de grass1 kerplunk1 but me mind kep' on a-runnin'4 ,next ,i knowed ,i was feelin' o' somebody's face1 an' ,i seen de poor devil was cryin'1 ,an' he tumbled all over me tryin't' r'ise1 an' he cussed an' kep' turnin' an' tryin'2 ,good ,gawd6 sez ,i1 what's de matter wid you8 ,shut up yer face an' hark1 ,an' s' help me1 de odder man's face was mine an' ,i was alone in de dark4 ,when ,i lay wid me back ag'in de world ,i seen how little ,i was ,an' ,i knowed1 fer de firs' time in me life1 how deep an' broad de sky was2 ,an' me mind kep' a-wanderin' off 'n de night1 till it stopped where de ,bowery ends1 ,an' come back a-sighin' an' says t' me dat it couldn't find no friends4 ,den ,i fumbled me breat' till ,i cert'inly t'ought ,i never could ketch it ag'in4 ,if ,i'd bin a-bawlin' t' git a prize ye bet cher life ,i'd 'a' win4 ,if ye're dyin' an' ain't no home in de world an' yer fr'ends is all on de shelf1 ,an' dere's nobody else t' bawl fer ye--ye're goin' t' bawl fer yerself4 ,de sun peeped over de hills at last1 an' as soon as ,i seen his rim ,de dew in de valley was all afire wid a sort o' a ruby glim4 ,de blue coats lay in de tumbled grass--some stirrin' but most o' 'em dead-- ',pon me word1 de poor devils had bled so much1 de dew in de valley were red6 ,an' what d'ye t'ink8 de nex' t'ing ,i knowed1 a lady had holt o' me hand1 ,an' smoothed de frills all out o' me face an' brushed off de dew an' de sand4 ,no lady had ever mammied me an' ,i were scairt so ,i dassent say boo1 ,i warn't in no shape t' help meself an' ,i didn't know what she'd do4 ,an' me heart was a-t'umpin' ag'in me ribs1 an' me lettin' on ,i was dead6 ,till she put down her cheek so close to me mug dat ,i had t' move me head4 ,an' she lifted me head wid her sof' white hands an' ,i don't know all she done2 ,i was blubberin' so dat ,i couldn't see1 but ,i knowed ,i were havin' fun4 ,i lay wid me head 'n de lady's lap while de doctors cut an' sawed1 ,an' dey hurted me so dat me eyes was sot1 but ,i never cussed er jawed4 ,an' she patted me cheek an' spoke so sof' dat ,i didn't move a peg1 ,an' ,i t'ought if dey'd let me lay dere awhile dey could saw off de odder leg4 ,fer de loss o' me leg1 t'ree times a year1 ,i gets me little wad1 ,but dere ain't any pension fer losin' yer heart unless it comes from ,gawd4 ,if anythin' busts ye there1 me boy1 ,i t'ink ye'll be apt t' find ,ye'll either drop out o' de game o' life1 er else go lame in yer mind4 ,i never c'u'd know de reason why1 till de lady helt me head1 ,dat a man 'll go broke fer de woman he loves er mebbe fight till he's dead4 ,when ,i t'inks dat ,i never had no friends an' what am ,i livin' fer8 ,i fergits dat ,i'm holdin' de wheel o' de ,susq1 an' ,i sets an' t'inks o' her4 ,an' ,i t'inks how gentle she spoke t' me1 an' ,i t'inks o' her sof'1 white hand1 ,an' de feel o' her fingers on me face when she brushed off de dew an' de sand4 ,an' ,i set a-t'inkin' an' turnin' me wheel1 sometimes de whole night t'rough1 ,an' de good ,gawd knows ,i'd a giv' me life1 if she'd only 'a' loved me too4 ,,the ,,baby ,,corps ,being some account of the little cadets of the ,virginia ,military ,institute1 who stood the examination of war at ,new ,market1 ,va4 ,may #ae1 #ahfd1 in the front line of the ,confederate forces1 where more than three hundred answered to their names and all were perfect4 ,we were only a lot of little boys--they called us a baby corps-- ,at the ,institute in ,lexington in the winter of '#fd2 ,and the ,new ,year brought to the stricken ,south no end of the war in sight1 ,but we thought we could whip the ,north in a week if they'd only let us fight4 ,one night when the boys were all abed we heard the long roll beat1 ,and quickly the walls of the building shook with the tread of hurrying feet2 ,and when the battalion stood in line we heard the welcome warning3 ,breckinridge needs the help o' the corps2 be ready to march in the morning4 ,and many a boastful tale was told1 through the lingering hours of night1 ,and the teller fenced with airy foes and showed how heroes fight4 ,and notes of love were written with many a fevered sigh1 ,that breathed the solemn sacrifice of those about to die4 ,some sat in nature's uniform patching their suits of gray1 ,and some stood squinting across their guns in a darkly suggestive way4 ,the battalion was off on the ,staunton pike as soon as the sun had risen1 ,and we turned and cheered for the ,institute1 but yesterday a prison4 ,at ,staunton the soldiers chaffed us1 and the girls of the city schools ,giggled and flirted around the corps till we felt like a lot of fools2 ,they threw us kisses and tiny drums and a volley of baby rattles1 ',til we thought that the fire of ridicule was worse than the fire of battles4 ,we made our escape in the early dawn1 and1 camping the second night1 ,were well on our way to the seat of war1 with ,harrisonburg in sight2 ,and the troopers who met us1 riding fast from the thick of the army hives1 ,said3 ,sigel has come with an awful force1 and ye'll have to fight fer yer lives4 ,but we wanted to fight1 and the peril of war never weakened our young desires1 ,and the third day out we camped at dusk in sight of the picket fires2 ,our thoughts1 wing-weary with homeward flight1 went astray in the gloomy skies1 ,and our hearts were beating a reveille whenever we closed our eyes4 ,hark6 what's that8 ,the sentry call8 7,a galloping horseman comes47 ,hey1 boys6 ,get up6 ,there's something wrong6 ,don't ye hear 'em a-thumpin' the drums8 ,said the captain1 who sat in the light of the fire tying his muddy shoes3 ,we must toe the line of the ,yankees soon1 an' we haven't much time to lose4 ,hats off6 ,and we all stood silent while the captain raised his hand ,and prayed1 imploring the ,god of war to favor his little band4 ,his voice went out in a whisper at last1 and then without further remark ,he bade the battalion form in fours1 and led us away in the dark4 ,we lamed our legs on the heavy road and a long rain cooled our blood ,and every time we raised a foot we could hear the suck of the mud4 ,at noon we came--a weary lot--to the top of a big clay hill1 ,and below were miles of infantry--the whole bunch standing still4 ,the league-long hills are striped with blue1 the valley is lined with gray1 ,and between the armies of ,north and ,south are blossoming fields of ,may4 ,there's a mighty cheer in the ,southern host as1 led by the fife and drum1 ,to the front of the lines with a fearless tread our baby cadets have come4 ,forward6 ,the air is quaking now2 a shrill- voiced1 angry yell ,answers the roar of the musketry and the scream of the rifled shell4 ,the gray ranks rushing1 horse and foot1 at the flaming wall of blue ,break a hole in its centre1 and some one shouts3 ,see the little cadets go through6 ,a shell shoots out of its hood of smoke1 and slows mid-air and leaps ,at our corps that is crossing a field of wheat1 and we stagger and fall in heaps2 ,we close the ranks1 and they break again1 when a dozen more fall dying2 ,and some too hurt to use their guns stand up with the others trying4 ,lie down an' give 'em a volley1 boys--quick there1 every one6 ,lie down1 you little devils6--,down6 ,it's better to die than run4 ,and huddling under the tender wheat1 the living lay down with the dead1 ,and you couldn't have lifted your finger then without touching a piece of lead4 ,look up in the sky and see the shells go over a-whiskin' their tails2 ,better not lift yer hand too high or the bullets 'll trim yer nails4 ,said the captain1 ,forward1 you who can6 ,in a jiffy ,i'm off on my feet ,an' up to their muzzles a-clubbin' my gun1 an' the ,yanks have begun a retreat4 ,said a wounded boy1 peering over the grain1 ,hurrah6 ,see our banner a-flyin'6 ,wish ,i was there1 but ,i can't get up--,i wonder if ,i'm a-dyin'8 ,o ,jim6 did you ever hear of a man that lived that was hit in the head8 ,say1 ,jim6 did you ever hear of a man that lived-- ,my ,god6 ,jim's dead6 ,a mist1 like a web that is heavy with prey1 is caught in the green o' the fields2 ,it breaks and is parted as if a soul were struggling where it yields2 ,the twilight deepens and hushes all1 save the beat beating of distant drums1 ,and over the shuddering deep of the air a wave of silence comes4 ,by lantern light we found the boys where under the wheat they lay ,as if sleep--soft-fingered1 compelling sleep6--had come in the midst of play4 ,the captain said of the bloody charge and the soldiers who fought so well3 ,the army had to follow the boys if they entered the flames o' hell4 ,,picture1 ,,sound ,,and ,,song ,the battle roar is ended and the twilight falls again1 ,the bugles have blown1 the hosts have flown save they in the dusky grain4 ,and lo6 the shaking barley tells where the wounded writhe and roll2 ,with a panting breath at the pass of death the body fights for the soul4 ,some rise to retreat and they die on their feet in this terrible fight for the soul4 ,and horses urged by the spur of ,death are galloping over the grain2 ,their hoofs are red1 their riders are dead1 and loose are the stirrup and rein4 ,a ghost in the saddle is riding them down1 the spurs of ,pain at his heels2 ,they are cut to the bone1 they rush and they groan1 as a wake in the barley reels3 ,and faces rise with haggard eyes where the wake in the barley reels4 ,the blue and the gray lie face to face and their fingers harrow the loam1 ,there's a sob and a prayer in the smoky air as their winged thoughts fly home4 ,the ,devil of war has dimmed the sky with the breath of his iron lungs1 ,and he gluts his ear on the note of fear in the cry of the fevered tongues2 ,like the toll of a bell at the gate of hell is the wail of the fevered tongues4 ,one rising1 walked from the bullet shock1 seems to reel 'neath the weight of his head1 ,he feels for his gun and starts to run and falls in a hollow--dead4 ,the wagons are coming and over each the light of a lantern swings1 ,and a holy thought to the soul is brought1 as the voice of a driver sings2 ,and the cry of pain in the trampled grain is hushed as the driver sings3 ,my country1 'tis of thee1 ,sweet land of liberty1 ,of thee ,i sing4 ,,the ,,ven',,son-,,tree ,the busy cranes go back an' forth1 a-ploughin' up the sky1 ,the wild goose drag comes down the wind an' goes a-roarin' by2 ,the song-birds sow their music in the blue fields over me ,an' it seems to grow up into thoughts about the ven'son-tree4 ,the apple-blossoms scatter down--a scented summer snow1 ,an' man an' wind an' cloud an' sun have all begun to sow4 ,the green hopes come a-sproutin' up somewhere inside o' me1 ,an' it's time we ought to see the sprouts upon the ven'son-tree4 ,the velvet leaves the willow an' adorns the ven'son bough1 ,there's new silk in the tree-top an' the coat o' horse an' cow4 ,the woods are trimmed fer weddin's1 an' are all in ,sunday clo's1 ,an' the bark upon the ven'son-tree is redder than a rose4 ,the days are still an' smoky1 an' the nights are growin' cold1 ,the maples are a-drippin' blood1 the beeches drippin' gold2 ,the briers are above my head1 the brakes above my knee1 ,an' the bark is gettin' kind o' blue upon the ven'son- tree4 ,what makes the big trees shake an' groan as if they all had sinned8 ',tis ,god ,a'mighty's reaper with the horses o' the wind4 ,he will hitch with chains o' lightnin'1 ,he will urge with thunder call1 ,he will try the rotten-hearted till they reel an' break an' fall4 ,the leaves are driftin' in the breeze1 an' gathered where they lie ,are the colors o' the sunset an' the smell o' the windy sky2 ,the squirrels whisk1 with loaded mouths1 an' stop an' say to me3 ,it's time to gether in the fruit upon the ven'son- tree4 ,what makes ye look so anxious an' what makes ye speak so low8 ,it's 'cause ,i'm thinkin' of a place where ,i'm a-goin' to go4 ,this here ,i've1 been a-tinkerin' which lays acrost my knee ,is the axe that ,i'm a-usin' fer to fell the ven'son- tree4 ,i've polished up the iron an' ,i've covered it with ile1 ,its bit is only half an inch1 its helve is half a mile4 7,the singer blows an imitation of the startled deer7 ,whew6 what's that so pesky--why1 it kind o' frightened me8 ,it's the wind a blowin' through the top o' the cute ol' ven'son-tree4 ,,him ,,an' ,,me ,being a story of the ,adirondacks told by me in the words of him who had borne with buck-fever and bad marksmanship until1 having been long out of meat and patiencey he put his confidence in me and we sallied forth4 ,we'd greased our tongues with bacon 'til they'd shy at food an' fork ,an' the trails o' thought were slippery an' slopin' towards ,new ,york2 ,an' our gizzards shook an' trembled an' were most uncommon hot ,an' the oaths were slippin' easy from the tongue o' ,philo ,scott4 ,then skyward rose a flapjack an' a hefty oath he swore ,an' he spoke of all his sufferin' which he couldn't stan' no more2 ,an' the flapjack got to jumpin' like a rabbit on the run ,as he give his compliments to them who couldn't p'int a gun4 ,he told how deer would let 'em come an' stan' an' rest an' shoot ,an' how bold an' how insultin' they would eye the tenderfoot2 ,how he--,fide ,scott--was hankerin' fer suthin' fit to eat ------6 says he4 ,le's you an' me go out an' find some meat4 ,we paddled off a-whisperin' beneath the long birch limbs ,an' we snooked along as silent as a sucker when he swims2 ,i could hear him slow his paddle as eroun' the turns he bore2 ,i could hear his neck a-creakin' while his eye run up the shore4 ,an' soon we come acrost a buck as big an' bold as sin ,an' ,philo took t' swallerin' to keep his feelin's in2 ,an' every time he swallered1 as he slowly swung eroun'1 ,i could hear his ,adam's apple go a-squeakin' up an' down4 ,he sot an' worked his paddle jest as skilful as he could ,an' we went on slow an' careless1 like a chunk o' floatin' wood3 ,an' ,i kind o' shook an' shivered an' the pesky ol' canoe ,it seemed to feel as ,i did1 for it shook an' shivered too4 ,i sot there1 full o' deviltry1 a-p'intin' with the gun1 ,an' we come up clost and closter1 but the deer he didn't run2 ,an' ,philo shet his teeth so hard he split his brier- root ,as he held his breath a-waitin' an' expectin' me to shoot4 ,i could kind o' feel him hanker1 ,i could kind o' hear him think1 ,an' we'd come so nigh the animal we didn't dast to wink1 ,but ,i kep' on a-p'intin' of the rifle at the deer ,jest as if ,i was expectin' fer to stick it in his ear4 ,an' ,philo tetched the gunnel soft an' shook it with his knee2 ,i kind o' felt him nudgin' an' a-wishin' he was me1 ,but ,i kep' on a-p'intin'1 with a foolish kind o' grin1 ,enjoyin' all the wickedness that he was holdin' in4 ,an' of a sudden ,i could feel a tremble in his feet2 ,i knew that he was gettin' mad an' fillin' up with heat4 ,his breath come fast an' faster1 but he couldn't say a damn-- ,he'd the feelin's of a panther an' the quiet of a lamb4 ,an' his foot come creepin' for'ards an' he tetched me with his boot ,an' he whispered low an' anxious1 an says he3 ,why don't ye shoot8'' ,an' the buck he see the time had come fer him an' us to part ,an' away he ran as ,philo pulled the trigger of his heart4 ,he had panthers in his bosom1 he had horns upon his mind2 ,an' the panthers spit an' rassied an' their fur riz up behind2 ,an' he gored me with his languidge an' he clawed me with his eye ',til ,i wisht that1 when ,i done him dirt1 ,i hadn't been so nigh4 ,he scairt the fish beneath us an' the birds upon the shore ,an' he spoke of all his sufferin' which he couldn't stan' no more2 ,then he sot an' thought an' muttered as he pushed a mile er so ,like a man that's lost an' weary on the mountain of his woe4 ,an' he eyed me over cur'ous an' with pity on his face ,an' he seemed to be a sortin' words to make 'em fit the case4 ,of all the harmless critters that ,i ever met1 says he1 ,there ain't not none more harmlesser--my ,god6-- than what you be4 ,an' he added1 kind o' sorrowful1 an' hove a mighty sigh3 ,i'd be 'shamed t' meet another deer an' look him in the eye4 ,god knows a man that p'ints so never orter hev no grub1 ,what game are you expectin' fer t' slaughter with a club8 ,an' ,i answered with a riddle3 ,it has head an' eyes an' feet ,an' is black an' white an' harmless1 but a fearful thing to meet2 ,it's a long an' pesky animal as any in the county2 ,can't ye guess8--,i've ketched a pome an' ,i'll give ye half the bounty4 ,a ,,voice ,,of ,,the ,,fields ,the red was on the clover an' the blue was in the sky2 ,there was music in the meadow1 there was dancing in the rye1 ,an' ,i heard her call the scattered flock in pastures far away ,an' the echo in the wooded hills3 ,co' day6 ,co' day6 ,co' day6 ,o fair was she--my lady love--an' lithe as the willow-tree1 ,an' like a miser's money are her parting words t' me4 ,o the years are long an' lonesome since my sweet- heart went away6 ,an' ,i think o' her as ,i call the flocks3 ,co' day6 ,co' day6 ,co' day6 ,her cheeks have stole the clover's red1 her lips the odored air1 ,an' the glow o' the morning sunlight she took away in her hair2 ,her voice had the meadow music1 her form an' her laughing eye ,have taken the blue o' the heavens an' the grace o' the bending rye4 ,my love has robbed the summer day--the field1 the sky1 the dell1 ,she has carried their treasurers with her1 she has taken my heart as well2 ,an' if ever1 in the further fields1 her feet should go astray ,may she hear the good ,god calling her3 ,co' day6 ,co' day6 ,co' day6 ,,the ,,weaver',s ,,dye ,there's many a hue an' some ,i knew in the skeins of a weaver old-- ,ah1 there is the white o' the lily hand an' the glow o' the silky gold6 ,an' the crimson missed in the lips we kissed an' the blue o' the maiden's eye2 ,o1 look at the wonderful web of life1 an' look at the weaver's dye6 ,,the ,,slumber ,,ship ,a ,,lullaby ,jack ,tot is as big as a baby's thumb1 ,and his dinner is only a drop and a crumb ,and a wee little sailor is he4 ,heigh ho6 ,a very fine sailor is he4 ,he made his boat of a walnut shell2 ,he sails her at night1 and he steers her well ,with the wing of a bumblebee4 ,heigh ho6 ,the wing of a bumblebee4 ,she is rigged with the hair of a lady's curl1 ,and her lantern is made of a gleaming pearl1 ,and it never goes out in a gale4 ,heigh ho6 ,it never goes out in a gale4 ,her mast is made of a very long thorn2 ,she's a bell for the fog1 and a cricket's horn1 ,and a spider spun her sail4 ,heigh ho6 ,a spider he spun her sail4 ,she carries a cargo of baby souls1 ,and she crosses the terrible ,nightmare ,shoals1 ,on her way to the ,isles of ,rest4 ,heigh ho6 ,the beautiful ,isles of ,rest4 ,the ,slumber ,sea is the sea she sails1 ,while the skipper is telling incredible tales ,with many a merry jest4 ,ho6 ho6 ,he's fond of a merry jest4 ,when the little folks yawn they're ready to go1 ,and the skipper is lifting his sail--he ho6 ,in the swell how the little folks nod6 ,ha6 ha6 ,just see how the little folks nod6 ,he fluttered his wing as they ast him to sing an' he tried fer t' clear out his throat2 ,he hemmed an' he hawed an' he hawked an' he cawed ,but he couldn' deliver a note4 ,the swallow was there an' he ushered each pair in his linsey an' claw-hammer coat4 ,the bobolink tried fer t' flirt with the bride1 in a way that was sassy an' bold1 ,an' the notes that he took as he shivered an' shook ,had a sound like the jingle o' gold4 ,he sat on a brier an' laughed at the choir an' told 'em the music was old4 ,the sexton he came--,mr4 ,spider by name--a citizen hairy an' gray4 ,his rope in a steeple1 he called the good people ,that live in the land o' the hay4 ,the ants an' the squgs an' the crickets an' bugs came out in a mighty array4 ,a number came down from ole ,barleytown an' the neighborin' city o' ,rye4 ,an' the little black people each climbed up a steeple1 ,an' sat lookin' up at the sky2 ,they came fer t' see what a weddin' might be an' they furnished the cake an' the pie4 ,,old ,,home1 ,,good-,,bye6 ,the day is passing2 ,i have tarried long2 ,my way leads far through paths ,i fear to try2 ,but as ,i go ,i'll cheer my heart with song-- ,old home1 good-bye6 ,in hallowed scenes what feet have trod thy stage6 ,the babe1 the maiden leaving home to wed2 ,the young man going forth by duty led ,and faltering age4 ,and some1 returning from far distant lands1 ,fainting and sick their ways to thee have wended ,to feel the sweet ministry of loving hands1 ,their journeys ended4 ,thou hadst a soul--thy goodly prop' and stay ,that kept the log1 the compass and the chart1 ,and showed the way for many a trusting heart-- ,the long1 long way6 ,o humble home6 thou hadst a secret door ,through which ,i looked1 betimes1 with wondering eye ,on splendors that no palace ever wore ,in days gone by4 ,from narrow walls thy lamp gave glad release ,and shone afar on distant lands and powers2 ,a sweet voice sang of love and heavenly peace ,and made them ours4 ,thou hadst a magic window1 broad and high-- ,the light and glory of the morning shone ,through it1 however dark the day had grown ,or bleak the sky4 ,its panes1 like mighty lenses1 brought to view ,a fairer home2 ,i saw in depths above ,the timber of the old home in the new-- ,the oak of love4 ,,the ,,rustic ,,dance ,to ,jones's tavern1 near the ancient woods1 ,drive young and old from distant neighborhoods4 ,here comes old ,crocket with his great bass horn-- ,its tone less fit for melody than scorn4 ,down through its wrinkled tubes1 from first to last1 ,a century's caravan of song has passed4 ,the boys and girls1 their mirthful sports begun1 ,with noisy kisses punctuate the fun4 ,some youths look on1 too bashful to assist ,and bear the sweet disgrace of being kissed4 ,the fiddler comes--his heart a merry store1 ,and shouts of welcome greet him at the door4 ,unlettered man--how rude the jest he flings6 ,but mark his power to wake the tuneful strings6 ,the old folks smile and tell how1 long ago1 ,their feet obeyed the swaying of his bow2 ,and how the ,god-sent magic of his art ,to thoughts of love inclined the youthful heart1 ,and shook the bonds of care from aged men ,who 'neath the spell returned to youth again4 ,he taps the fiddle-back as 'twere a drum2 ,the raw recruits in ,cupid's army come2 ,and heeding not the praise his playing wins1 ,the ebullition of his soul begins4 ,the zeal of ,crocket turned to scornful sound1 ,pursues the measure like a baying hound4 ,the fiddle's notes pour forth like showers of rain1 ,the dancers sway like wind-swept fields of grain1 ,and midst the storm1 to maddening fury stirred1 ,the thunder of the old bass horn is heard4 ,beside the glowing fire1 with smiles serene1 ,an aged couple sit and view the scene4 ,grandfather's ears the reveille have caught1 ,and thronging memories fill the camps of thought4 ,his heels strike on the floor1 with measured beat1 ,as if to ease a tickling in his feet4 ,year after year1 for love of kith and kin4 ,grandmother's hands have had to toil and spin2 ,but since the palsy all their cunning stole ,her mind is spinning raiment for the soul1 ,of spotless white and beauty fit to wear1 ,when comes the ,bridegroom and the end of care4 ,so goes the dance until the night is gone ,and chanticleer proclaims the breaking dawn4 ,the waning stars show pale to wearied eyes ,and seem to dance cotillions in the skies2 ,as if1 forsooth1 upon the journey home ,terpsichore's music filled the starry dome4 ,blest be the dance6 with noisy pleasure rife ,enough to temper all the woe in life2 ,what magic power its capering measures hold ,to keep the hearts of men from growing old6 ,stem ,father ,time1 rejoicing in the scene1 ,forbears to reap while yet the fields are green4 ,,to ,a ,,dead ,,classmate ,he started on the left road and ,i went on the right1 ,we were young and strong and the way was long and we travelled day an' night2 ,and ,o the haste and ,o the waste6 and the rush of the busy throng6 ,the worried eye1 and the quick good-bye1 and the need to hurry along6 ,odd times we met on the main highway and told our hopes and fears1 ,and after every parting came a wider flood of years4 ,i love to tell of the last farewell1 and this is the way it ran3 ,i don't know when ,i'll see you again--take care of yourself1 ol' man4 ,put the ,beta pin upon his breast1 with rosemary and rue1 ,the cap and gown1 the scarlet and brown and the symbol of '#hb1 ,and lay him low with a simple word as the loving eye grows dim3 ,he took care of more than his share--,o ,christ6 take care of him4 ,the snow is falling on the head and aye the heart grows cold2 ,the new friend comes to claim a share of that we gave the old1 ,and men forget while the eye is wet and bend to the lug of the load1 ,and whether or when they will meet you again is ever a chance of the road4 ,the babes are boys1 the boys are men1 and slowly1 year by year1 ,new faces throng the storied halls and old ones disappear4 ,as the hair is grayed and the red lips fade let friend be friend1 for aye ,we come and go and ere we know have spoken a long good-bye4 ,,to ,,my ,,friend ,a4 ,b4 ,the veil of care is lifted from his face6 ,how smooth the brow where toil had left its trace6 ,how confident the look1 how calm the eyes ,once keen with life and restless enterprise6 ,and gone the lines that marked the spirit's haste ,to do its work1 nor any moment waste4 ,imperial peace and beauty crown his head1 ,god's superscription writ upon the dead4 ,behold1 herein1 his dream1 his inmost thought ,as if in time-washed ,parian marble wrought4 ,truly he read the law we must obey3 ,man moulds the image and ,god gives the clay1 ,and if it's cast of ,god or ,csar is ,to each all render what is rightly his4 ,thousands at noontide are climbing the hills under ,nain1 like an army ,fleeing the carnage of war1 seeking where it may rest and take counsel2 ,some with the blind or the palsied1 some bearing the sick on their shoulders1 ,lagging but laboring hard1 so they be not too far from the ,prophet2 ,some bringing only a burden of deep and inveterate longing4 ,hard by the gate of the city their ,captain halts and is waiting4 ,closer the multitude presses and widens afar on the hillside2 ,thronged are the ways to the city with eager and hastening comers4 ,heard ye8 ,a man was delivered from death by his power1 and the story ,crosses the murmuring host like a wave passing over the waters1 ,how at the touch of his finger this day1 the dead rose and was living4 ,hushed are the people2 the ,prophet is speaking2 his hand is uplifted-- ,lo6 the frail hand that ere long was to stop the mad rush of the tempest4 ,quickly their voices are hushed1 and the fear of ,jehovah is on them4 ,jesus stood high on a hillock4 ,his face1 so divinely impassioned1 ,shone with the light that of old had illumined the dreams of the prophets4 ,gently he spake1 like a shepherd who calleth his flock to green pastures4 ,hiding her face and apart from the people1 a woman stood weeping1 ,daughter of woe6 on a rosary strung with her tears ever counting ,treasures her heart had surrendered and writ on her brow was the record4 ,hope and the love of her kindred and peace and all pleasure had left her ,chained to the pillar of life like a captive1 and ,shame was her keeper4 ,long spake the ,prophet1 and scarcely had finished when came the afflicted1 ,loudly entreating3 ,make way for the blind6 and the people were parted1 ,silent with pity1 and many were suffered to pass2 but the woman ,felt no miraculous touch1 for the press kept her back and rebuked her4 ,why comest thou to the ,prophet8 they said4 ,get thee hence and be silent2 ,he hath no mercy for thee or thy kind2 and the woman stood weeping4 ,now when the even was come over ,nain1 and the bridge of the twilight1 ,silently floating aloft on the deepening flood of the shadows1 ,rested its timbers of gold on the summits of ,tabor and ,hermon1 ,jesus came1 weary1 to sup at the house of one ,simon1 a ,pharisee1 ,dwelling at ,nain4 ,far behind him the woman came1 following slowly2 ,entered the gate in the dusk1 and when all were reclining at supper1 ,stood by the ,prophet1 afraid1 like a soul that has come to its judgment1 ,weeping1 her head bowing low1 her hair hanging loose on her shoulders4 ,then there was silence1 and ,jesus was moved1 so he spake to the woman3 ,daughter1 what grieves thee so sore8 and she spake not1 but dumb with her weeping ,sank at his feet2 and her tears fell upon them like rain1 and she kissed them4 ,simon1 amazed when the ,prophet forbade not the woman to touch him1 ,rose to rebuke her2 but seeing ,his face1 how it shone with compassion1 ,waited2 and ,jesus then spake3 ,i have somewhat to say to thee1 ,simon4 ,a man had two debtors of pence1 and the one owed five hundred1 ,the other owed fifty2 and when they had nothing to pay he forgave them ,all that they owed2 wherefore which of the two will most love him8 ,simon said1 thoughtfully3 ,he1 ,i suppose1 to whom most was forgiven4 ,jesus made answer3 ,thou judgest well4 ,consider this woman4 ,weary with travel and sore were my feet1 but thou gavest no water2 ,she1 to wash them1 hath given the tears of her love and her sorrow1 ,wiping them dry with her hair2 and hath kissed them and bathed them with ointment4 ,wherefore1 ,o woman1 weep not6 ,i forgive thee thy sins which are many4 ,go thou in peace4 ,and those who were with ,him at meat were astonished4 ,lo6 she spoke not1 she asked not and yet ,he forgave her1 they whispered4 99 99 99 99 ,dear to my ,god are the rills that flow from the mountains of sorrow ,over the faces of men and in them is a rainbow of promise4 ,strong is the prayer of the rills that oft bathed the feet of ,the ,master4 ,,the ,,end